


A Sea of Troubles

by Conduitstreetcat, TheGreenFaerie



Series: Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Breathplay, Dancing, Healing, Heartbreak, Kitten, M/M, Murder, Santa Muerte, Sherlock - Freeform, The Talk, eighties' disco, mormor, over the top Tiger, statue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 95,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenFaerie/pseuds/TheGreenFaerie
Summary: This is the seventh book (dear goodness) in the Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths series, that began with Kiss or Kill: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583459/chapters/33701808It's a year after Rooftop Hell, and Sebastian Moran is finally ready to move on. But Jim Moriarty has different ideas...We suggest you read them in order, as it's an ongoing story.A growing playlist for this book can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/user/quathia/playlist/7liazku6V8gE2x9fY66H9w?si=S7QqJw-mTBKpG0DHm91MaAThe playlist for this book is... quite different from that of the previous books :)





	1. You're the Stable One

I wake up early, manage to disentangle myself from your arms without waking you (although you do make the cutest sound of protest), and creep out of the room like the stealthy assassin I am.

Silently I drift down the stairs. This stealthy assassin's mission is to make breakfast in bed for the adorable sleeping psychopath's birthday. I just need to not break anything or burn anything or curse loudly or set off any smoke alarms. Piece of cake, I think, trying not to sweat.

In the kitchen, I begin my preparations and soon there are trays filling with blood-orange mimosas, crêpes with strawberries, bananas and Nutella, and bacon. I even manage Americanos without shoving the espresso maker onto the floor, or throwing it into the sea. Normally I wouldn't make anything this sweet because it's not my preference... but it's a special occasion, and I'm more than happy to make an exception.

To your tray, I add a vase with a rose, and a small wrapped gift - a gorgeous platinum tie pin I found online, with a small Santa Muerte skull with roses around her head. You have more gifts coming, and I'm so nervous... you were always so weird about birthdays and gifts in the past. I hope you like them...

 

 

_I smell - mmmm... bacon... and pancakes... and coffee... oooh, that’s a *good* start to the day..._

_I roll onto my back, stretch languorously. The sun is shining, gulls are screeching, there’s a soft background of waves, and a Tiger cooking me a birthday breakfast. What more could I ask for..._

_I think back to a month ago - how tense I was, how stressed with the situation with bloody Holmes eating away at my Empire, not being able to do anything, being stuck in Tuscany, surrounded by idiots..._

_I never thought I’d be going back to London and *falling in love* with my second in command... or rather, realizing I’d fallen in love with him years before... and then marry him and go on a honeymoon to Mexico and blow up the flat... and get a load of *feelings* dumped onto me..._

_Christ, Sebastian, it’s been a weird few weeks... I’m an entirely different person than I was before I stepped into that shower. And you - you’re an entirely different person than I thought. Than I allowed myself to think._

_And these two people are fucking *perfect* for each other. Well. You’re perfect for me. You seem to somehow have got the idea that I’m perfect for you too, and I’m happy to let you believe that, deluded though it is._

_The door opens and a gorgeous naked soldier walks in balancing two trays. You smile as you see I’m awake, put one tray on your nightstand, and present the other one to me with a bow._

_“Good morning Kitten... and happy birthday.”_

_I ooh and ahh over the delicacies on the tray, and spot a small gift - a tie pin –_

_dammit Moriarty! You weren’t going to do that!_

_I look at you, see you look back a bit - apprehensively? Oh god, I’m so sorry Tiger... I know, I’ve been a git..._

_I pick up the package. “Oooh... thank you so much, my love... can I open it?”_

 

 

I smile at you wryly. You know what it is, don't you... well, it's sweet that you seem pleased.

I don't _think_ you'll react in a blasé manner when you see it, but... you're nothing if not unpredictable... and clearly I have several years of conditioning to overcome.

"Of course you can... it's your day!" I stroke your cheek. "This isn't your main gift; it just feels like tradition... go ahead, Kitten..."

I sit down on the bed and sip my coffee. God, I feel like a fifteen year old telling a boy he likes him for the first time... I chew my lip, feeling more nervous by the moment.

 

 

_I peel back the sticky tape, tear the paper, to reveal a slim leather box with the name of a jeweller on there that I don't recognize. I open it - platinum, good choice, Tiger - and - is that - oh wow -_

_I look up at you, mouth open, genuinely surprised and touched. You've got me things with skulls on them before - you know I love a subtle skull to freak people out when they spot it - but this is a special skull, to remind me of a very special lady. I bet lots of cartel top brass wear pins like this - it'll make me look like I'm making an effort to fit in here, and will make people freak out even more in London - I love it._

_"Tiger - that's so beautiful - I *love* it -" I look up at you, see you looking at me dubiously, then with a careful smile. "It's really great - you know I love the Lady, though I've fallen for her less hard than you have," I grin, "and this is beautiful - I can't wait to wear a suit again so I can clip it on."_

_I gently place the pin back in its box and lean over carefully, so as not to upset the tray, to kiss you. "Thank you, my beloved husband._

_And - thank you for all the thoughtful gifts you've given me in the past that I refused to acknowledge - I was a dick - showing gratitude would have come too close to showing *feelings*, and that whole minefield..._

_But it was really appreciated. Each and every one of them._

_And - I apologize for laughing at you, or making you feel bad -" Damn, I'm killing the mood, aren't I?_

_"I love you. And I love this pin. I will wear it with love and pride to remind me of our lovely honeymoon and my cherished husband."_

_Better._

 

 

As you speak, the tightness in my chest slowly unclenches. I release a breath I didn't even know I was holding onto.

"I'm really glad you like it, Kitten. And I don't care so much about the past, as long as I have you now..."

But god, the past really does keep a firm grip on me...

"More coming, sweetheart... I'll just dole them out as the day goes on. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold," I say with a cheeky grin. You can deduce all you like, it will still drive you mad having to wait...

And hopefully you'll like what I have planned for us tonight.

I think it will be fun. But _god_ , Kitten birthdays are stressful...

I settle against the headboard with my tray and hold up my champagne flute filled with blood-orange mimosa. I think I need about five of these to calm my nerves. How old am I again?

"To you, Kitten - and to a fun birthday for you at last..." We clink glasses. You have a sip, and I down mine in one shot.

"That's fucking delicious... and so are you..." I thump my glass onto the nightstand, and carefully balancing my tray, I pull your head towards mine. "I love you, my dark angel..." I whisper and kiss your lips hungrily.

 

 

_You’re tense... tenser than you’ve been these past days. Is it the memory of past birthdays?... the memory of my birthday last year in particular? That must have been agony for you... I’m so sorry Tiger..._

_I don’t want to think about that, or the birthdays before. It’ll just make us sad. And make me feel guilty, and I could do with one day without feeling guilty._

_Fortunately you distract us both by a passionate kiss... mmm... didn’t I mention a morning blowjob?_

_“... but there’s all this delicious food, that mustn’t get cold... sorry Tiger, I guess my age is showing... I need this feast to build up my strength for the magnificent fellatio you have planned for me... and it does smell so incredible...”_

_You look simultaneously disappointed and smug. I take another sip of my mimosa - making my head pleasantly light at this time in the morning - then a sip of coffee to wake up, creating a nice alert buzz._

_I start on the pancakes, which taste as great as they smell, as you tuck into yours with your typical gusto. I’m watching you as I’m eating - I love looking at you when you eat. You are so voracious in everything you do - be it killing, drinking, fucking, or eating. I love seeing it. For me, eating is something I need to do to maintain my body. Drinking - not enough to lose control (honeymoon orgies excepted). Fucking was curtailed by rules for much too long. Killing - I enjoy it, but I’m a planner more than a doer. I only occasionally like to get my hands dirty, but I prefer the thrill from a well-executed plot._

_Overall, whatever I do, my brain sits between me and enjoyment. It analyses, plans ahead, explores potential, sees what might have been different, how *that* could have worked out..._

_... and ignores the taste of the food, the sensation of the fuck, the beauty of the sunset._

_Maybe I should do a mindfulness course or something. Or just ask you how you do it. But then - I can’t see inside your head. You may be thinking about so many things that I don’t realize. I always *assume* no one has a thought in their head but me, and to be fair, most people *act* like they don’t, but you’re not most people…_

_“What are you thinking, Tiger?”_

 

 

I chuckle at _magnificent fellatio_... one hot birthday blow job coming right up... but first, breakfast. It’s so tasty considering I hardly ever make sweet things Iike this... I finish everything on my plate and ponder going downstairs for another mimosa.

It’s so novel sitting in bed with you, eating breakfast... our kitchen is gorgeous and obviously taking breakfast on the patio can’t be beat... but there’s something about a bedroom looking out onto the beach... the sea breeze rustling the white curtains... then there's the convenience of already being in bed... but I’ll let you digest for a bit before I pounce on you. That’s just the considerate kind of Tiger I am...

When you finish, I take your tray and place it on top of mine on the floor. We sip our coffee and I ask if you need any more of anything... you reply that it was perfect and thank me again. God, I’m not used to thank you’s from you!! _At all_...

This makes me think of how things were, which makes me suddenly remember the Empire. We really should get into the routine of discussing it on a daily basis... especially since my first in command is now dead and in the process of being shipped back to London in a box. Thank god for Steve - he’s been with us for years and with you even longer, so he can handle things as needed.

I think about possible replacements for Bain (god, I still can’t believe he’s gone... what were you thinking, you _reckless moronic_ \- _fuck_ , this is going to take a while to get over...)

I have a feeling we’re going to deal with business in person at some point. I was scared at the thought of returning for so much of our stay here... but these weeks together have been so healing for me on so many levels. I think I actually could consider it, and - now what I’m afraid of is going soft. I’ll have to bring all this up to you at some point, because that’s what we do now, right?... but it’s your birthday and that’s not the time for serious discussions.

Then you ask me what I’m thinking and I choke on my coffee.

“Huh?” I ask, coughing into my hand. “Christ... you’d think I’ve never swallowed before...” I wink as I wipe drops of coffee off my chin with a napkin. If you weren’t here, I’d be tempted to use the duvet - and most likely get punished for it later.

“Nothing too exciting... work, actually. We need a replacement to handle things while we’re away. And I guess at some point we should have a serious discussion about how long we can really afford to stay away. Shouldn’t we show our faces sooner rather than later, even if we’re just going to come back here or go have adventures somewhere... isn’t it still our home base?” I say in a mad jumble.

“So much for saving this for after your birthday,” I say apologetically. “We don’t have to talk about it now. But you asked. It’s not urgent, because I know Steve can handle things... but shouldn’t we talk about when we’re going back?”

Suddenly, it all feels so real and my heart begins to race. Maybe I was wrong... maybe I’m not ready to go back...

 

 

_Well, I didn't expect you to choke when I asked you what you were thinking. I thought that was the kind of thing couples did._

_You were thinking about work?_

_Huh._

_Why haven't I been thinking about work? I always think about work. But I hardly have, on this honeymoon. I thought I should try *not* thinking about work for once. Because I never tried._

_And now you are reminding me that there's an Empire unravelling in London because we're not paying attention... fuck._

_Steve's handling things. He's aware that Bane is dead. Steve is - alright at maintaining stuff, but not at thinking for himself. It's what I like about him, but there's only so much he can do. I haven't been keeping track at all. I just have been leaving it all to you. And you have hardly been checking your emails either._

_What am I *doing*!? Gallivanting around on a beach in Mexico while Holmes is eating away at the borders and god knows what chaos is breaking loose in London..._

_Fuck, what have I been thinking?!_

_I grab my phone, start looking at emails. God, hundreds and hundreds... it will take days to go through them._

_"We need to start dealing with things again. You need to update me on what's been happening in London. What the fuck have I been *doing*!?"_

 

 

I watch you start to unravel with shock. Oh, _shit_... what have I done?

I grasp your wrist. "Jim... _Jim!_ " I say firmly. "We're not going to do this right now. One more day won't make a difference. We'll figure out a plan of action tomorrow. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything... it was just on my mind because I realized I need to find a replacement for Bain soon... but I didn't mean right this second!"

You continue to try to check your e-mails, and I remove your phone from your hand and hold it out of reach.

"You've never had a good birthday and you want to spend it catching up on work e-mails? Jim - give yourself today. It's important. And as for what the fuck you've been doing... it's what we've both been doing! Healing from the past and facing our demons so we could have a future together... isn't that worth it?"

 

 

_You're grasping my wrist - how *dare* you -_

_Take my phone out of my hand - I look up with open mouth at your audacity. You're so dead, Tiger..._

_I raise my hand to slap your face when your words seep into my brain._

_*healing*..._

_*future together*..._

_My hand halts in mid-air, but I'd already seen you flinch. My heart crumples, and my hand falls down onto my knee._

_Shit... what the fuck was that, Moriarty?_

_A flash of old me... old me, who only cares about work..._

_Or, not even cares about. Focusses on._

_Deep breath, Moriarty._

_This is Sebastian. Your husband. You love him, and you do. not. slap him. Not in anger, anyway._

_What were you getting so worked up about?_

_You *know* the Empire can largely keep turning on its own. It might not do anything amazing, but it won't just collapse either. You've spent years making sure that most of it just ticks along without you having to keep a personal eye on everything. And then when you were in Italy Seb did the same. When you were here, Bane and Steve maintained it. Steve would have contacted Seb if there was an emergency. Why were you panicking?_

_Control._

_That's it, isn't it? You're afraid of losing control. You've been losing so much control over the past weeks - over Sebastian, over your emotions; you're convinced your Empire is next. You were on a hair trigger, and then Sebastian talking about ‘how long we can afford to stay away’ - and you snapped._

_Breathe, Moriarty. Stop being a dick._

_Sebastian is right - as usual. We must talk about this at some point - but not today. Some time this week. Today is for healing wounds between him and me - and *nothing* is more important than that. The Empire will abide. If there's an emergency, Steve will let us know. If there isn't - there's absolutely no reason why I should ignore my beloved in favour of some crisis that my minions can't deal with. Genius brain is occupied. Leave a message. We may get back to you if you're still alive._

_I look at your face and my brain helpfully replays the flinch. My heart clenches again._

_"Seb... you're right, of course. I'm - so sorry."_

 

 

I knew it was a risk grabbing you...

I knew it was a big goddamn risk _taking your phone away_...

But I have never allowed myself to live in fear of consequences - I prefer to fling myself into the breach, and see what happens. It's what made me an amazing soldier, and a phenomenal right-hand man to you...

The _only_ way I lived in fear was not opening myself up to love or expressing myself to the one person I felt anything for.

With that wall smashed... I don't want to live in fear of your reactions any more.

I want to trust in your love that everything will work out - one way or another. Even if somebody gets shot along the way...

So if my impulse is to grab your wrist and take your phone away...

I'm going to grab your wrist and take your phone away.

I have to admit, it was really fucking satisfying to just do what I felt like doing...

and it seems to work? You stop yourself from slapping me, which is a huge step for a psychopath who's already swinging... and there seem to be a lot of thoughts going through your mind which eventually take you to a place of apologizing ( _God_ you've come far in a few weeks...) and looking incredibly sad and guilty.

Aww... I'm not crazy about almost getting slapped but... I can't resist that face...

I gently drop your phone on the nightstand, and hold out my arms to you.

"Come here, Kitten..."

You do, and within an instant I'm cradling your head, pressing my face into your hair and breathing in your scent. I kiss your hair and forehead over and over.

"I'm sorry, too... I should not have said all of that... I was kind of freaking out, and I passed it on to you. No wonder you panicked! It's all going to be OK... together we're unstoppable..." I beam at you, and nuzzle your cheek.

 

 

_"Why did you freak out, though?" I complain weakly against your neck. How am I expected not to freak out if you freak out? You're the stable one..._

_Calm down, Moriarty..._

_"I'm going to go outside for a second," I say, moving out of your arms. "I'll be back in a minute... don't worry." I kiss your face, looking worried despite my admonition. I open the doors, walk onto the beach. The sea wind is good... clears the head..._

_I sit down on a bench, staring at the sea._

_Right. Take stock. All those feelings – I don’t know how to fucking process them; they just appear one after another, one on top of another, following no rhyme, no reason, no pattern…_

_So - what am I feeling? Guilt - for nearly slapping you._

_*Nearly*, though. Before, I would have done much worse for you taking away my phone. Actually, I'm doing very well._

_Panic - caused by fear of losing control. I've spent so much of my life establishing full control over *everything*, after spending my young years being hurt by things I was unable to control. Now, after coming back, in a few short weeks I've lost control over my Tiger and over my feelings. No wonder I am getting scared - my control has always been total; so if I lose one aspect, who's to say I'm not losing everything I have?_

_OK… - well - my rational mind says so. Fortunately that kicked in rather quickly, explaining that there was nothing to freak out about. Even in this weird new world of partial control and feelings, I can rely on my brain. Thank you brain._

_Anything else?_

_There are feelings more in the background - guilt, mostly, for how I treated you, for disappearing on you. Love, of course, pervasive throughout, lighting up like a coal being blown on whenever I think of you. Unease for not being at the centre of my web, or even the edge of it. Anger at the world - yeah, we know that one. Hatred - also familiar._

_I better stop digging or this is going to be the worst birthday ever._

_Look at things rationally, Moriarty. There's no reason to fret - your Empire is doing fine, or at least not on the verge of collapse. It's peacefully (well...) waiting for your return, even if it doesn't know it yet. OK? Stop panicking, thinking the world is going to shit if you're not there keeping an eye on it 24/7. It won't. I know it's not common for a spider to leave their web, but it's being guarded, and not going to unravel._

_Breathe. Breathe in the sea air on your fucking *honeymoon*, where you're sorting out stuff that *does* need your immediate attention: the relationship with your husband. The most beautiful man in the world, the *one* person who could possibly love you - be with him. Be fucking nice to him. Make him forget the horrible things you did to him. Show him a sweet, grateful, pleasant Jim, so he loses the fucking fear of your birthdays he has, because you insisted on treating him horribly during each and every one of them in the past._

_Right?_

_Right._

_I take a few deep breaths of the sea air, empty my mind._

_Turn back to the villa, where the most important thing in the world is clearing up the breakfast dishes. Walk up to him, wrap my arms around him._

_“I’m sorry. I love you.”_

 

 

Why did I freak out?

Because your birthday has triggered me more than I thought...

Because I killed my former best friend and brother in arms yesterday... and I keep going over and over in my head that this is my fault, that I led him on, that if I had done _something_ differently, maybe Bain would be alive today. Why do the men who were closest to me before you end up dying because of me?? (And how do I keep the same thing from happening to you?!)

Because part of me wants to return to London and part of me never wants to leave the villa...

Because I’m afraid - whatever we’ve said, whatever we’ve established here... what if, when we cross the boundary back to the regular world, it dissipates like faerie gold...

I saw how you just reacted right now... how much more of that is inside you?

I can’t go back to the way things were, Jim...

And I can’t say _any_ of this to you, because... look what happened when I expressed what I was thinking...

And I _really_ don’t want to ruin your birthday...

It’s taken out of my hands when you leave.

I watch through the window, see you staring at the sea.

I sit back on the bed heavily. I feel hot with guilt, so much guilt... cold with fear... my chest clenching tightly. I feel locked in these sensations. They seem to go on forever...

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be by myself for a bloody moment? Let your sweet Kitten have a moment to sort out his feelings...

I gather up the trays and dishes and wander into the kitchen to clean up. I’m going over the rest of my birthday plans for you when I suddenly feel arms move around me. Damn... I didn’t even hear you come in.

I hear your words and I smile at the running water in the sink - I shut it off, and turn around to pull you into my arms. “No harm done... I love you too, Kitten...” I whisper.

 

 

_"It's still hard on us, isn't it?" I murmur against your chest._

_I look into your eyes. "We're deeply flawed men, Tiger... brilliant men, sure, but with some really fucked-up bits... and that's going to cause issues, occasionally..._

_But all things considered... we're doing remarkably well. Two homicidal psychopaths, one of whom is a narcissistic sadist with poor impulse control, one of whom is an adrenaline junkie with a pathological lack of fear... it's a miracle either of us made it to thirty. And then found each other and survived *that*. We're doing better than we've ever done..._

_I'm sorry I'm still a prick, sometimes. I'm sorry I'm not good at listening and being a sympathetic partner. I'm sorry our honeymoon hasn't been all nice and quiet and pleasant. I'm sorry I freak out occasionally._

_But - we're getting better at being together. And you're the only thing that really matters, Tiger. When I'm being a dick, please remind me that I said that. I might not listen, because - well - of being a dick - but... you really are."_

_I lean in and kiss you._

 

 

I listen to you, open-mouthed. Damn... you are getting really good at this...

I'm about to tell you to shut up and kiss me, when you lean over and kiss me.

Your lips are sweet and searching against mine. I want to cry. You're so fucking _sweet_ …

I break apart from the kiss, press my forehead to yours. "Listen to me. You make me happier than I ever believed was possible..." I take your face in my hands. "I appreciate the apologies, I really do... but also - I'm not sorry our honeymoon hasn't been all nice and quiet and pleasant. _We're_ not nice and quiet and pleasant. We're both more than capable of acting like dicks. And maybe it's been ridiculous for us to try so hard to have a quiet fucking day... if it happens, it happens. But it won't be happening on your birthday, Jim Moriarty. I have plans for you..." I murmur. "Now shut me up with a kiss... and then with your cock... because I don't want to wait to give you magnificent fellatio for another moment, birthday Kitten..." I pull your face towards mine, kiss you lustfully, and make a growling sound in my throat.

 

 

_Hmmmm... hungry Tiger..._

_I kiss you heatedly, kick shut the dishwasher, and pull you outside, to a lounge chair in the shade. I plunk down into the chair, your eyes hungrily upon me, you drop to your knees in the sand. There. More comfortable than hard kitchen tiles. Aren't I just the most thoughtful husband in the world..._

_You pull down my shorts, greedily eye my cock, and dive down on it with your customary gusto._

_And all is right with the world. I'm well-fed, it's my birthday, I'm sitting in a comfortable chair in front of a private villa owned by my husband, and said husband is on his knees worshipping my cock._

_I have had worse times._

 

 

God, I love it when you just take over... _yes_ , drag me wherever you want me...

How is it possible I've been sucking your cock for so many years, and it's always a _revelation_... as if I'm seeing it for the first time... touching it for the first time... tasting it for the first time...

I pull down your shorts as if I'm unwrapping a treasure... which _I am_...

Hello, beautiful one...

I wrap my lips around it, and start to move up and down slowly.

_gah_

_So_...

 _Good_...

Oh, my beautiful Kitten... I think I'm getting the hang of this birthday thing. I'm going to treat you like the treasure you are, the adorable kitten you are, the dark god you are...

oh, you are, _you are_...

I feel your fingers twist through my hair and tighten...

fuck...

yes...

Jim...

 

 

_You're always so hungry for my cock; it's a delight. I used to think it was to get me in a good mood, but it's not diminished in the slightest - seems only to have increased. You really enjoy this, and I most certainly am not complaining..._

_Most *definitely* not complaining..._

_Fuck, Tiger, you're fucking good... you're fucking *brilliant*..._

_My fingers tighten in your hair, you look up at me - I *love* seeing you like this, it must be the hottest sight in the world - on your knees, worshipping my cock, looking at me with such devotion, hunger, love..._

_I move your head, slightly faster, darling, fuck yes, *that's* it..._

_I moan your name across the beach... our beach..._

 

 

Oh god... your fingers pulling my hair... guiding me...

your face, filled with desire and lust - for _me_ , and what I do to you...

your voice calling out my fucking name...

Oh, Jesus...

I would start wanking right now if I could.

But I’m a good Tiger, and I do as I’m told...

mostly...

I smile around your cock, with pleasure at what we’ve experienced here in this beach paradise.

Well... I suppose I could _ask_...

“Jim... can I come with you?” I pant. “Or does Sir prefer to fly solo?”

 

 

_Ohhh, *good* Tiger... No touching without permission..._

_For a moment, I consider preventing you from coming all day, to unleash a demon tonight... but no, I’m in a magnanimous mood, and you’re sweet, and I want you to enjoy my birthday as well._

_Alright then..._

_“You can come with me...”_

_I can spice it up a *little*, can’t I?_

_“I want us to come at exactly the same time. Make it so, Tiger. You get one stroke of my cane for every second we are apart._

_What can I say; I’m a romantic...”_

 

 

I blink at you. Riiight... simultaneous orgasm. Easy-peasy. Not that we haven't had them before, but... not as a challenge... with caning as an outcome of not succeeding!

Well, you're nothing if not unpredictable...

All right... I pause for a moment. "Challenge accepted," I say, raising an eyebrow.

I grin and return to sucking your cock - only this time I'm stroking myself as I do.

 _Ugnh_... oh fuck, I love this. I need to ask you if I can do this more often. The caning would be worth if it, if I'm just a few seconds off. If it's more... I'm fucked.

You seem energized by the thought of the challenge, and... what? My inevitable caning?

I moan as I increase my pace. I just have to stay a couple of seconds behind you...

 

 

_My birthday..._

_King of my realm, my husband on his knees before me, my cock in his mouth, his cock in his hand. Probably a few smarting cane stripes in his future... groans of pain... involuntary jerks, but staying in position, because he is so obedient... fuck... that’s hot... oh fuck Tiger, your mouth is magic; your moans of pleasure music to my ears..._

_“Excellent work, Tiger... I’m getting close here...”_

_It’s only fair to warn you..._

_I’m probably going to whip you regardless because it’s just so delicious... but it’s nice to make you sweat..._

 

 

I moan as I approach the finish line... oh, _hold back_ , Seb...

If _not finishing at the exact same moment_ gets me caned, then - I don't want to know what happens if I inadvertently _come before you_...

I suck you harder... faster...

Your moans are getting louder...

Come, Jim... come, my Kitten...

Oh god, _come_...

 _now_...

 _please_...

 

 

_Your groans are getting more desperate and my cruel side contemplates delaying my orgasm, but no... it’s such a lovely morning, let’s be nice... and you’re so fucking good at this... it would be wrong not to reward you._

_As I think that, look down at you, your hot, sexy, strong body, mine, all mine... I feel my release draw closer, tighten my grip on the chair, moan, “Sebastian... oh god Sebastian, I love you, oh god...”_

_Oh, *yes* - My seed is pushed out in such delicious pulses, so good - fuck, so good - how does it always feel so incredibly good?! Who did you sell your soul to to get so *good*?!_

_No, I know who you sold your soul to... for the negligible price of one psychopath soul... best purchase ever..._

 

 

God, you are so into this, and it's so beautiful, _so_ hot... I'm a fucking genius for asking if I could wank at the same time...

But I'm also a fucking genius who's going to get caned, because oh _fuck_ , you're coming, and I've been holding back so intensely that it takes a moment to - just - let - go...

in the space of 1 - 2 - 3 seconds, I'm groaning so loudly, and it merges with your panting, and everything is so beautiful... I swallow, and then I'm shuddering in ecstasy as semen spurts out onto the sand.

I lower myself towards the lounge chair, and rest my head and my arm against your pale thighs.

"Mmm... so good, baby. Close enough?" I ask with a lazy smile.

 

 

_"Fucking hell, Seb... you're brilliant... absolutely brilliant..." I pant, caressing your soft blond hair._

_In the daylight, I notice suddenly that it's not all blond any more - there's silver among the gold. Quite a bit, actually..._

_I hadn't noticed because - well, you are my blond-haired Viking; my knight in shining armour, invincible, untouchable... even by time..._

_But you are nearly forty-three. So of course you are going grey... and those wrinkles aren't all from worrying about me being dead._

_We may all just be mortal... even you... even I..._

_Fucking hell Moriarty. Stop being so fucking morose on your fucking birthday. You're thirty-seven - nowhere near dead yet. Geraldo is nearly eighty and still rules with an iron fist - that's going to be us._

_I smile at you._

_"Three seconds, Seb... three strokes, that's peanuts for a strong guy like you. And because I'm nice, I'll save them for later... They're more suitable as foreplay than aftercare, don't you agree? And who knows, you might do something to earn more..."_

 

 

I laugh, too happy and lazy to care about future canings. "That's _very nice_ of you, my angel. Who knows, indeed! Tigers are unruly, as you keep telling me... it's so easy for them to collect strokes... without even breaking a sweat!"

I sit up and caress your hair, making you shiver.

"So I have something planned for us to do this evening... but the day is yours. What would you like to do, my birthday Kitten?"

 

 

_Get more presents... I know you got more presents for me, and I'm *not* deducing what they are, so I am dying of curiosity... But if I want to leave the surprise of them to you, I guess I also want to leave the timing up to you, no matter how it kills me._

_"Ooooh... what do I want to do... except hot hot Tigers..." I smile at you and caress your hair. "I think... going for a swim in the sea. It's a significant sea... it seems suitable to go and swim in it on my birthday."_

_The weather is quite nice - not too hot, but sunny, and only a slight breeze. I stand up, stretch like a lazy cat, walk towards the sea. It's great to have a private beach._

_The sea stretches out before me, looking blue and innocent, despite all the shit we've dumped into it in the past weeks. All swept away on the tides... pristine new waters for us to frolic in._

_I reach beside me, find your hand, and hand in hand we walk into the water._

_I think back to the first day we were here, shell-shocked from our sudden reunion, desperately holding on to each other as we walked into the sea... and your face as I re-baptized you... that's when the healing truly began. Well, no, it'd begun earlier... with the marriage... and the reunion... but something dark and heavy was taken from both of us at that moment, washed away by the sea, the blessed waters of baptism._

_I turn to you. You are thinking of the same moment..._

_I reach out, my hand on your neck, my lips on your lips._

_Eternity._

 

 

You reach for my hand to go into the water, and I feel my heart leap.

It's been a while since we've done this... and it's amazing to me that I can say 'it's been a while' about anything that's happened here at our villa...

Of course I think of the baptism when we first arrived... how disorienting the dazzling beauty of the sun and the sea was... both of us still raw from our reunion, and so wounded from the past... standing on the beach in our clothes from London, and sloughing them off like old snake skins...

There was a self-consciousness to what we did, like we couldn't really believe in it, couldn't believe we were actually doing it...

But the moment we entered the sea, everything changed... and while we were immersed in the salty water, we were no longer the bitter wounded creatures who had run off to Mexico to escape their pasts. We left our old lives behind, even as we couldn't fully believe it possible.

Everything that followed in the days to come was our way of completing what was begun in the sea. All life began in the sea, I find myself thinking. Mine surely did...

Everything feels different now. _Everything_.

So where do we go from here?

Up to our chests in water, we stop - your hand on my neck, you pull me into a kiss.

Our arms slide around each other.

I can't believe everything that transpired... Jim is my husband... Jim is my love...

"I still worry about waking up and finding out it was all a dream," I confess. "It _is_ real, isn't it?"

"Does this feel real, Tigger?" you ask, kissing me again and nipping my lip.

I grin at you. "So it does, my little sadist." I splash water at your face. "Oh my, that wave came out of nowhere!"

 

 

_I jump at you, trying to push you over, but you are too damn stable, so my fast surprise attack ends with me being thrown head-first into the water. I rise, spluttering indignantly, and splash as much water as I can at your smug head. You evade by diving sideways into the sea, which seems to kind of defeat the point - you're still wet, but it's less satisfying for me. I dive after you, and a water wrestling match ensues, which I unfortunately don't stand a chance of winning, despite my vicious tactics._

_Eventually I decide to go for the Queenie strategy._

_"Tiger!" I shout, as you're lifting me up to plunge me into the sea again. "Whose birthday is it?"_

_I'm suspended in mid-air for a moment, then carefully lowered. Into the water, admittedly, but less violently than I could have expected. Droplets are carefully dusted off me, before you bow deeply._

_"My apologies, birthday sir," you say in a formal voice. "Would birthday sir care to commence punitive splashing? Perhaps some retaliatory dunking?"_

_I jump onto your back and you do the most unconvincing amateur-dramatics impression of a vanquished Tiger, finally collapsing after much staggering and death woes._

_I have tears in my eyes, from the seawater, but mostly from the laughter, and I can't remember when I've last laughed so much, so carefree..._

 

 

Well, our birthday horseplay could not be more different than the baptism, but... again, we leave the sea different than before. Lighter.

I'm carrying you on my back, and you're sniggering away as we make our way out of the water and across the sand. As we pass by the patio, I say, "I get that we haven't used the pool, when we have the sea to swim in... but we should really try the hot tub some night. What the fuck have we been doing since we got here?"

I look back and wink at you, and you start laughing again. God, I haven't seen you this light and relaxed in - I have never seen you this light. Or happy. Or carefree.

I manage to slide open the door with my knee, and close it behind me the same way. I cross the living room, and deposit you onto the sofa before diving at you and making you giggle.

You pull me into your arms, and we settle into a delicious tangle of limbs and warm kisses.

 

 

_So, what's next?_

_This is a perfect moment to get my next gift. Quiet, relaxed, no other urgent business..._

_I am calm, trying to radiate receptiveness, but you appear to be completely oblivious, you big lump of muscle and no brain._

_Inwardly humphing, I look out the patio doors. Wait - what's that?_

_You start to say something, but I hold up my hand, and you immediately hush, look where I'm looking._

_You gesture for me to stay put as you get up and stalk to the door._

 

 

Aw, shit... they're _fucking early_.

Goddammit. I should have kept you occupied for longer in the bedroom... I should have tied you up, and had you making so much noise that you didn't hear a thing.

Who am I kidding? You'd still hear something, and you'd manage to get loose. I can't get anything past you...

I look out the sliding doors, then beckon you over.

"Surprise..." I say weakly.

You come up beside me and I slide my arms around you. We watch as men work steadily, using a truck hoist to move a statue into place.

"Bronze statue. You on a horse. 2x life-size - sorry, 4x would have been a bit much. And I hope you weren't joking, because it was fucking expensive and nearly impossible to have custom work done so quickly. Luckily there happens to be an amazing bronze sculptor here in Mexico, or it would _never_ have got here in time... and it helped that he had huge debts to pay off and some scary collectors after him... I may have sweetened the pot by getting him help from Eduardo... He's sick of waiting for a visit, by the way - he's expecting us for dinner next week."

I kiss your hair. "I've only seen photos, but I think the work is stunning. You look like a demonic prince. I hope you like it, baby... Shall we go have a look and you can give your stamp of approval?"

And you'd _better_ give your stamp of approval or I'm throwing you into the sea...

Fuck, I'm nervous.

Why are you so quiet?

"Jim...?”

 

 

_There's a fucking *truck* coming up our beach - and you must have let them in - what's going on!?_

_I look back at you, you look sheepish - what?_

_Is that..._

_*No.*_

_*NO.*_

_You *didn't*._

_I was *joking* - oh god - oh Tiger -_

_You are opening the door and looking at me to move outside -_

_\- I don't think I can move. I am perplexed, frozen, overwhelmed._

_My narcissist side is running circles in my head screaming starry-eyed, delighted I am *finally* getting the recognition I deserve._

_I am leaning against the doorpost, mouth open, unable to speak or move or indeed let go of this post because my legs are feeling decidedly wobbly._

_The huge shape is wrapped so I can't see exactly what it looks like but it's *huge*... and it's a horse... and a rider... who is *me*..._

_You are looking worried - oh god Tiger, I'm overwhelmed, not disappointed - I am not sure if I can speak, but I must, because you are looking more and more perturbed - you didn't think I could *possibly* not be happy with this? What kind of monster have I been all these years?_

_"Seb-" I manage._

_"Oh - god - you - Seb..."_

 

 

My eyes widen. Oh god... did I break you?

"Jim? Are you..." I shrug helplessly. "Do you want to go see it?"

 

 

_"You - I had never -"_

_Any day you'll want to start making sense, Moriarty. Poor Seb looks like he's worried he gave you an aneurysm._

_"I had never, ever, *ever*, expected that you would *actually* take that seriously." Well done. A coherent sentence, and an accurate reflection of the truth._

_"And - oh god, I'd never - I couldn't say it's what I've always wanted, because I never saw it as a realistic prospect. I mean, where was I going to put it? On the balcony? And besides - even I am not so conceited that I would erect a statue to myself." Slightly less lucid, but still true._

_"I just can't - I can't believe you actually went through all that trouble - that you took on the unfathomable and were like 'yeah, let's do this'. But that's you all over, isn't it, Tiger? There's no such thing as impossible when you are concerned._

_God - Tiger -"_

_I shake my head, still not sure if I'll be able to stand up without the support of the doorpost._

_"Yeah, I want to see it - I really want to see it - it's just - my legs -" I laugh._

_"Well done. You've incapacitated James Moriarty."_

 

 

"Well, see... you've mentioned it often enough, that I thought it's what your heart desired... and who am I to not give you your heart's desire?" I kiss your hand, looking at you intently.

"No matter how over the top," I say wryly. "But that's you, sweetheart. Who else would merit a statue of themselves on a horse? No one I've met in my fucking life..."

I pull on your hand, and a grin spreads across my face. "And that, my darling, is one of the countless reasons I adore you. So let's go see your beautiful countenance immortalized in bronze..." I lead you - still looking stunned - through the sliding door, and we walk hand in hand towards the statue, now being unwrapped.

The big reveal...

Oh god, I'm nervous again...

In the photos, you looked majestic and fey and terrifying.

I hope you like what you see...

 

 

_What my heart desired. My heart wasn't even aware that it desired this, but now it's here, it's jumping and screaming and dancing and utterly in love._

_Yes, it *is* over the top. But I have long ago stopped dismissing things because they are over the top; because I realized that I could get away with them. And fuck it - if I don't do things which are over the top, who will?_

_But even I hadn't *really* considered getting a 4 x, or even 2 x, life-size statue of myself on a horse. It was a joke I made when we were in Tashkent and saw a massive statue of Timur on a horse - and it kind of stuck. But only you... only ever you would see through the running joke to realize that I really - *really* - would be overwhelmingly ecstatically happy with a statue of myself._

_I *am* a narcissist, but I come from such fucked-up beginnings that a large part of me, a *very* large part of me, that is usually told to *shut the fuck up*, still feels I'll never amount to very much, and that everything I have is just... transient... insignificant... a few successive instances of dumb luck, rather than the genius and hard work that went into it. One wrong turn and it will all tumble down and I'll be shivering in front of a radiator in an abandoned house again._

_This is - this is a monument, *literally*, to my grandeur, and, yes, my narcissism, your adoration, but fucking hell, there wouldn't be a statue if I hadn't made some big fucking impact; and I *have* - my name sends shivers down London's spine, I have gathered enough money to buy half the fucking world, and most importantly, I have made you love me so much that you forgave me for everything I did and defied realism to get me this fucking statue._

_I watch breathlessly as they remove the thick foam and the features become clear. The horse's head is the first part to emerge -_

 

_\- it's stunning._

 

_The sculptor has gone for expression more than realism - the horse is obviously racing towards some unseen goal, its mouth open, its eyes wild, flecks of foam on its cheeks, ready to trample anything and anyone that might dare stand in its way - just *this* would have been breath-taking, a gorgeous work of art to have in the house, or in the garden, but the unveiling goes on, its muscular neck, its wildly galloping legs, its mighty body - oh - *his* mighty body, pardon me - his tail flying behind him._

_They've left the human rider for last. Unwrapping his legs, tightly holding on to the horse - no saddle, no stirrups, this is fire, ferocity, barefooted storm…_

_The final covers are removed, and there I am._

 

_There I am._

 

_Oh my god._

 

_It’s good that you are holding me, because I am not sure I might not have collapsed in a very unmanly manner._

_Somehow the sculptor has managed to capture not just my physical likeness, but my mental, emotional, spiritual identity – the expression on the face is rapturous, violent, feral – it’s what I *would* look like if I were to ride into war on a fierce steed like this, ecstatic with battle fever –_

 

_It’s the most beautiful work of art I’ve ever seen._

 

 

As the covers are removed from the horse, I'm stunned.

And I saw a _picture_ of it already...

it didn't do it _fucking_ justice.

"Shit..." I breathe. "Oh, shit..."

You seem weak, like your knees are about to buckle. I hold you up as we move slowly towards it.

"2 x life-size... still big, I know... but until I saw it... how could I _know_...?" Now I'm rambling as much as you did.

Slowly the covers slide back from you as the fierce warrior...

"Oh fuck..." I whisper. "Oh, Jim... it's _you_."

I turn to you and stare in disbelief. "How did he - just from photos? He captured - _you_..."

We both gaze dumbfounded at the statue, as I continue to hold you up.

"Aw, baby... I've never seen anything more beautiful... except you," I say fervently, my hand tightening against yours.


	2. I Would Fuck Me

_The statue is getting blurry - oh fuck Jim - not with *people* there..._

_But the people are far away and not coming nearer... they're just poking at the ground around the statue and shouting at each other in Spanish. Cleaning up the foam and ties._

_Then one starts towards us. I manage to rub my eyes dry and blink and stand up on my own and look for all the world like a functional human being. He does look at me oddly though, then looks back at the statue, then smiles and gives me two thumbs up. I feebly repeat the gesture, smiling._

_He asks you if that's alright. I don't know what they'd do if you'd say it wasn't - lift it back up and put it somewhere else? Melt it down and remake it?_

_You say it is fine, thank you so much, and slip him a tip, still holding your arm around me, because neither of us is sure how long this standing on my own will last._

_They gather in the truck, pull off, leaving us alone on the beach, staring at a magnificent work of art, depicting *me*._

 

 

My poor sweet Kitten... I had no idea it would affect you so!! I thought you’d be surprised and pleased, and I _hoped_ you’d love it... but you seem moved, overwhelmed, and ready to keel over on the beach.

When we’re alone, I turn to you. “Jim, sweetheart...” I say urgently. “I’ve never seen you like this before. Are you alright? I take it you like your ridiculously over-the-top gift?” I smile, despite my concern. “Those were happy tears?”

 

 

_"Yes - god, yes -"_

_I can't stop staring at the statue, my mouth open - it's *huge*. It's a good thing you didn't go for 4x life-size, because it would have dwarfed everything. It's *beautiful*. I can't stop staring at my face - the ferocious violent ecstasy - I want to ride bareback on a horse towards battle now. With you beside me. I could see you like this too... god, we would have been stunning as horse nomad warriors... except for the beards... and the hygiene..._

_*Anyway*, this is stunning. Absolutely stunning._

_And somehow it doesn't look out of place on a Mexican beach. The palm trees flanking it, the sea behind it - it looks like it was meant to be there, like the rider and his steed are here on this beach ready to fight invaders that are landing just up ahead. And the invaders are dead already - you can tell from the look on his face._

_Tiger - my Tiger -_

_"You are incredible..." I whisper._

 

 

Relieved, I lay my head on your shoulder and wrap my arms around you.

"So are you," I whisper back. "Hence, mighty mighty statue..."

I move my head to look at it. "I like the placement here by the beach... it's where you faced down your demons. And emerged from the battlefield bloody and victorious. That's even more amazing than this statue..."

I look back at you, awestruck. "The man is a true artist, though. I'm glad he didn't meet a bloody end. Look at that... someone survived because of you and me. How often does that happen? It's a birthday miracle..." I grin and kiss your lips. "So, lunch is being catered in a while... shall we eat on the patio, so we can admire you more?"

 

 

_"Yes..." is all I can say. It's not often that I find myself at a loss for words. When I do, it's with you..._

_Yes, I faced my demons on this beach... so long ago... and you were there, holding me, steady as a rock in the storm. Steady as that statue is, so solid despite its depiction of dynamism._

_A brief panic flows through me - it's your birthday in a few weeks - how will I *ever* repay you?!_

_You gently lead me to a chair on the patio, look down at me. You seem to have finally realized that I *adore* your present, and grin your beautiful impossibly large grin._

_"A drink, my love?"_

_"Rum and coke, please..."_

 

 

"Back in a flash..." I kiss you, and wander across the patio towards the house. I look back at the statue, and then at you staring at the statue. I've never seen you in such a daze (except for that day I was referring to). I'd say the gift was a success.

I grin as I enter the house. _God_ , I've been so worried about this, I couldn't even let myself stress about it. That it would arrive in time, that it would be worthy of a gift to you, that you would _like_ it... I could not be happier with your reaction.

I think through the day's plans - lunch, and then some downtime before the evening's activities... maybe we can nap or... whatever my darling desires. God... this has been more stressful for me than planning most criminal hijinks... but the payoff is so much sweeter.

I prepare your drink, pull a beer out of the fridge, and return to the patio where you're still staring at the statue.

"Your drink, Kitten..." I murmur, stroking your face and placing the glass in your hand.

 

 

_"Thank you, Tiger..." I reply._

_When did I start accepting Kitten as a form of address? It must have happened at some point... or it may have been attrition... anyway, it's sweet._

_I can't stop staring at the statue. I can't start believing that you actually did this. You're mad. You're amazing. You're my impossible Tiger._

_"Sebastian... I can't believe you did this. I really, absolutely cannot believe you did this. And you did._

_Well done, you completely stumped me. I was trying to get myself not to deduce what you got me - and I succeeded. This was a complete and utter surprise and I am - wow._

_You are amazing. Utterly amazing. I - thank you sounds so insignificant, but - thank you. Thank you so much Tiger. For everything. For putting up with me and not killing me and keeping me alive and loving me and marrying me and - getting me a fucking statue of me on a horse because I said I wanted that -"_

_I'm crying again._

 

 

I'm blinking as you speak. I never expected this kind of reaction...

And then you start to cry...

"Sweetheart..." I take the glass out of your hand and place it on the table. My throat closes up, and I swallow hard. "Jim..."

I lean forward in my chair and grasp your shoulders. As I look at your face, my vision blurs. "Oh god... I can't watch you cry without crying myself, baby..." I choke back a sob, and pull you into my lap.

"You're all that matters to me in this world..." I say through my tears. "You made me the happiest I've ever been in my life. And I will do _everything_ to keep you safe and healthy and happy. And if I think a fucking statue of you on a horse will bring you pleasure, then you're getting a fucking statue of you on a horse..." I laugh as I cry, and press my face against your cheek. "And I recognise we're both completely mental... but I wouldn't have it any other way..."

 

 

_Oh now *you* start crying and that makes *me* cry worse and we're *never* going to be able to go out in public again, are we... the slightest thing will set one of us off and we'll be bawling in each other's arms in no time and whichever mob boss we were trying to intimidate will be utterly puzzled before laughing his head off and then we'll have to kill him and there's no way that can be good for business._

_"You're so fucking *sweet*..." I sob. "How did I ever end up with a guy who's so fucking *sweet*!? There's no justice in the world... Though, to be fair, you have turned the most dangerous man in London into a soppy sobbing kitten unfit to show his face in public, so there's that. I guess that is justice, of a sort. Not retributive justice, but you have taken one of the major players in the international crime world off the board, well done. You'll be up for a Nobel Peace Prize next..."_

 

 

Oh god... I _really, really_ never expected this...

You’re sobbing now, and making me cry harder. My arms tighten around you.

“Jim, baby, please... you’re still a dangerous kitten...”

You snort with laughter, and resume crying.

Jesus, I have no idea what I’m even saying anymore...

“We’ve just been going through something huge... We won’t be bursting into tears forever...” I weep into your shoulder.

Will we??

I had just assumed once we got back to work, we’d be our bad-ass criminal selves again...

“At least, I think it won’t be forever...” I sniffle, sounding less confident.

What if... it is? What if we’re not the same bad-ass criminals? Huh.

Unexpected...

“Well, if I got nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, you’d run around threatening the judges. Any mysterious deaths would probably get me disqualified...” I reassure you.

I wipe the tears away from your eyes, and lick my fingers. “Kitten tears... “ I whisper. “I’m not the only sweet one on this beach, baby...”

 

 

_I giggle through my tears._

_"I guess it's allowed to be weepy softies on your honeymoon. What am I saying - I allow it, so it is allowed. Who is in charge of the world again? Let's not forget that," I shake my head, grab the sleeve of your t-shirt, wipe my tears and my nose._

_"They have raised entire statues to him," I grin, turning back to look at my statue. Fuck, it's beautiful._

_"Did you get a petard as well?"_

 

 

"They have raised entire statues to him who rules the world," I echo, grinning at you. "Did you just wipe your nose on my shirt, you little fucker?"

You give me a haughty smile, and I shake my head at you.

"Sorry, no petard... I had the statue to worry about, and the petard would have taken some work to get around border control. Better luck next year, baby..."

I ignore your pouting. I assume you're being playful, but one can never tell...

I sit with you in my lap, staring at your beautiful statue, in the sea breeze.

I'm so looking forward to tonight... we haven't gone _out_ as a married couple, other than getting motorcycles, and visiting the Temple of Santa Muerte... and oh yes, our fun little jaunt after our fight - bar brawl, stabbing, hospital.

We are _not_ going to have a repeat of that tonight... we're going to have a fun evening, make it an early night, and have an epic birthday fuck.

Fun, goddammit... I stare at your statue's feral face, your vicious smile...

I'm sure everything will be fine...

 

 

_Oh my Tigger - you look slightly taken aback at my pout - could you actually believe that I am disappointed for real?! After *this*!? Besides, I wouldn't know what to do with a petard. I just loved the phrase in Hamlet because when I was little and first read it I had no idea what either hoist or petard meant, so it sounded so exotic... later I realized that hoisting was something done with flags, but how that was a bad thing, or what, for that matter, a petard was, I didn't find out until much later._

_I've been wanting a petard ever since. But more as an answer to say when someone asks 'What do you want for your birthday/Christmas', than as something I really wanted._

_I say someone. The only one who's asked me that since I was eleven is you._

_My sweet loving caring giving Tiger..._

_I stroke your face._

_"Sebastian. You know the petard is a joke, right? I was joking. I am utterly and completely more than satisfied with my birthday gift, more than I could possibly express, and you are off the hook for Christmases and birthdays in the foreseeable future. Fucking hell," I sigh, turning to the statue again._

 

 

"Oh, like you don't really want a petard... I know you..." I butt your shoulder with my head, as I'm pulling my cigarettes out of my pocket. The biggest part of the day went off not only without a hitch, but was wildly successful. I think I can relax about the rest of it.

I light up a smoke, and take a long drag. I blow out smoke towards the sea, and put the cigarette in between your lips. "Like I would ever not get you something for Christmases and birthdays..." I say, shaking my head at you. You inhale and hand it back.

"So the reason we're having catered lunch instead of dinner is we're going out tonight. I didn't want us to get all full and sleepy... this way if you want to have a delicious birthday nap, there's plenty of time..."

I rest my head on your shoulder. I so hope you have fun tonight, and enjoy your birthday...

I for one am so looking forward to being out with you... I can picture it already. Me and Kitten, painting the town red...

 

 

_"Oooh, out tonight? Dancing?" I glow. You nod, grinning. You know how much I adore dancing... And here in Mexico we don't risk running into anyone we know. Oooooooh, exciting!!!_

_"Also - what middle-aged biddies have we become that we need a nap before we go clubbing?" I laugh - no, I know what you meant by 'nap', Tiger..._

_Mrs Álvarez waves at us from the kitchen, comes out, kisses me, wishing me a very happy birthday, and asks if we would like to eat on the patio, and if it isn't too cold. I assure her we are sturdy Brits who even went swimming earlier, causing her to fuss as if we'd tried an arctic plunge. Allegedly if we get a cold (which she seems to think is inevitable now) we must let her know immediately; she knows the best medicines. I assure her we will, but for now we are perfectly happy to eat outside._

_Two girls appear with trays and trays of food - it seems that like last time, we'll be well fed for days to come. Burritos, quesadillas, tacos, guacamole, salsa, enchiladas, chilaquiles, churros, pie... With two bottles of tequila, in case we had already made our way through the twenty or so we got last week._

_I thank them profusely, and they prove their status as best hosts in the world by disappearing quickly, leaving us to enjoy the food, which all smells absolutely amazing._

 

We eat with gusto, feeding each other bits and pieces from our plates. I also keep stealing from your plate which is ridiculous because a) it’s one of your many, many _many_ pet peeves, and b) there’s more than enough on the trays for me to take however much I want. This of course results in retaliation - I end up being smacked across the face with a churro and you end up with guacamole in your hair. Your glare decreases only when I assure you that avocado’s essential fatty acids are excellent for hair care, and that you’ll be stunning for tonight. I’ve pulled that out of my arse, but you seem mollified enough not to mash the remaining guacamole into my face. Slowly you put the bowl down, and I hand you a cloth napkin for your hair with a contrite smile.

When we’re finished eating, it’s time for the next bit... I excuse myself, and find the white box in the refrigerator as I had requested, and tiny multi-coloured candles in the cutlery drawer.

Moments later, I carefully slide open the door and creep across the sand with a flaming cake and sharp knife. I’m sure you know I’m coming, but you don’t turn around. I step into your eyeline and present you with a chocolate glazed cake with _Happy Birthday Jim!_ written in red icing. “Did you think I’d forget? Happy birthday, Kitten...” I murmur, and put the cake in front of you.

 

 

_*Cake*!!!_

_You got me cake -_

_With candles -_

_Mam got me cake with candles every year._

_You got me cake one year. With four candles. I blew them out and wax landed on the cake. I got mad at you for not getting special birthday cake candles._

_The next year there was another cake, but without candles._

_And now - you thought you could risk candles again? Because you like setting stuff on fire, or because you know somehow that I missed the candles, but could never say so?_

_I swallow, breathe in deeply, blow them all out - you actually managed to get 37 candles on there - it's a giant cake... and make a wish._

_I wish for many more birthdays for both of us, together, healthy, happy... We deserve a few, to make up for the crap ones we've had, surely?_

_I look at you. You really went out of your way to make this a brilliant day, haven't you, Tiger? How will I ever repay you when it's your birthday?_

_"Thank you, Tiger... this looks delicious..." I say, my voice hoarse. I pick up the knife, cut us both a generous slice, then pull my finger through the chocolate cream and plant a dollop on your nose._

 

 

You seem to be having some intense feelings, and I'm not quite sure what to do... do I ask you if you're OK? Or is that going to make things maudlin if we process feelings?

Should I-

Oh, you're blowing out candles... I hope you made a wish.

You would not have a made a wish in the past, and if you had, you'd have denied it.

Oh god, your voice... I'm planning to gather you up in a hug when you're done cutting slices... and then there's chocolate cream on my nose. My mouth falls open.

I scoop a fingerful up and dab it on your chin. Then I smile innocently and take a large forkful of your cake slice.

"Mmm. Yours looked better," I say around my mouthful of stolen cake.

 

 

_"Give it back," I growl, and attack your mouth, trying to force my tongue inside. You are laughing, trying to chew and swallow, trying not to bite me, and it's all getting rather messily chocolaty. I threaten you with my small silver fork, and you hastily offer me your as yet untouched slice. Like Laurel I put my hand under the saucer and smash it into your face, letting the saucer smash onto the patio tiles - whoops - to reveal your chocolate-smudged face, your eyes closed, your lips pressed together. You open your eyes, expressing disbelief - oh yes, I guess that cake throwing hasn't really been part of our birthday traditions so far..._

_You get up, grab me, rub your face over me, while I'm thrashing and squealing in a rather unmanly fashion. We're both covered in chocolate and have not eaten any cake - well, apart from that one bite you stole from me - and are laughing way too much for two people who have just eaten a rather large meal. In an uncharacteristically pacifist move, I suggest a truce, lest we make ourselves sick. You magnanimously agree, and we head to the patio shower to clean ourselves off, shedding our clothes which are covered in chocolate._

_And here we are in a shower again - it seems we can't have a shower any more without being reminded of that first shower, without looking into each other's eyes deeply, cuddling, stroking... kissing..._

 

 

After our cake-fight ends in a draw, we're back in the outdoor shower - washing away chocolate cream, cake crumbs (and oh yes, that's guacamole in your hair)... and with the remnants of your birthday feast, I also feel draining away all the tension of the day. Residual birthday stress of the last few years is slowly loosening its grip on me... there's just one birthday year that I still feel holding on with sharp talons. (Last year, of course - the back hole of remembering your birthday when you were dead.)

The conversation we need to have has been circling us like a great predatory beast since we arrived. I can feel its hot breath on the back of my neck. But today is _not_ the day for heavy conversations, and the beast can piss off.

I kiss you tenderly. My husband. My Jim. My Kitten.

When you shut the water off, I open up the cupboard where fresh towels always seem to appear as if by magic.

(Who are these amazing cleaners that we never see? Did Mr Álvarez hire former ninjas??)

I pass you a towel, and start drying myself off. "We have a few hours, baby... what do you want to do before we get ready? Game of Thrones?"

 

 

_"Game of Thrones was not on the birthday list. Some light flagellation and an afternoon fuck was, though... however, we may want to wait until we can move without waddling again. This honeymoon will leave us fat and slow..." I pat your belly, which doesn't show a grain of fat - you must have been sneakily working out, or maybe it's all the fucking that's keeping us fit._

_"So - a birthday nap like the old men we are, and then when the food's gone down said afternoon fuck? Preceded by the cane strokes you have coming? And maybe a bit more... it is my birthday, after all..."_

_I stroke your neck, your chest, move onto your arse as I push myself close to you... Little Seb is already twitching, of course, he would never let me down..._

_But I really am too bloated to engage in too strenuous activity now, so that siesta sounds like a plan._

_You lock up as I move into the house. If I open the curtains, I can see the statue... I gaze upon it lovingly for a bit, until you come in and we lie down upon the sheets._

_God, this is the life... how could I never let myself enjoy a holiday before?_

 

_Because my mind was always busy... And it had to be, because if it wasn't, if I were idle, for even a minute, I might think of things I didn't want to think about. I might start *feeling* things. *Remembering* things._

_*God*, I was fucked up. I was just always *running*... running from my past, running from my self. The better distraction I could find, the happier I was, because that would be my mind sorted for a bit. Everyone was so *slow* and *boring* though... I needed an entire Empire, spanning the world, taking massive risks, to keep my mind occupied..._

_Holmes was - both a blessing and a curse. *Finally* someone who could keep my mind entertained, but I got *too* obsessed, and nearly completely ruined everything I had that was *really* worthwhile..._

_I look beside me, to where you are lying, eyes closed, your face looking happy, at peace, resting..._

_My heart twitches, looking at you like that. How could I just *ignore* that for so long? How could I insist that I was a creature of the mind only, incapable of feelings, because that was safer than facing them?_

_But face them I did... and you were right there, and didn't let me fall... even when I went where I never thought I'd go again... where I'd been running from all my life..._

_God, my Tiger..._

 

_I realize that if you *hadn't* stood up to me when I came back... if you would have done what I'd *expected*, and just taken me back, handed over the Empire, let me slot back into the position I’d vacated…_

_We’d be fucked…_

_I’d have gone back after Holmes straightaway, taking them *both* on. That was my idea, when I returned… get London back under control, stop Junior from attacking the edges of my web, and so inevitably end up fighting Senior. The ultimate challenge…_

_And one I *knew* I wouldn’t survive. But I looked forward to the mad games we could get up to before the final standoff… and it wouldn’t be like with Junior; the stakes would be infinitely higher… and I *would* die, but I would have had the ultimate game before, so I didn’t think it mattered…_

_And you would have been destroyed as well, as one of my main assets. I’d have used you well…_

_Or maybe not. I mean, I made sure you were not in a position to get hurt in the game with little Holmes… Maybe that was a concession to my feelings…_

 

_Who knows._

_Enough dwelling in the past._

_It didn’t happen. You saved both of us from my mad destructiveness. And if I never stop paying you back, it will be too soon._

 

_I move over, want to be held. You half wake, murmur “Kitten…” and move your arm so I can lay my head on your chest, while you hold me, hold me like you’ve always held me, like the hero, knight, Tiger you are._

_“I love you…” I whisper, inaudibly._

 

 

It's the most delicious nap I've had in a long time, this birthday nap of yours... there's something about having set aside time for it that feels so decadent.

At one point I wake up, and remember we left food outside - it's all covered, but it needs to be refrigerated. When I extricate myself from you, you whimper. I freeze and stare at you in horror at having made you make such a sound... then I gently kiss your cheek, and whisper to reassure you, "I'll be right back, sweetie..." before creeping out of the room. Your face is still troubled when I look back before closing the door.

I yawn as I head out and pack up the food. Once all of it and the cake has been brought back in, I bring up a pitcher of water with sliced limes, and a glass.

When I get back to bed, you're tossing about in bed and murmuring. Something about, "Have to go back - my Tiger-"

I gather you up against me, and whisper, "Your Tiger is here..."

I see a single tear squeeze out of the corner of your eye. "I'm not dead..."

I stare at you for a long moment, and exhale slowly.

This has been coming for a while...

_But not today, Jim._

I fall back into restless sleep.

 

 

_I’m back in Tuscany. That wasn’t the plan. And I haven’t been able to see my Tiger - only from a distance, and I have seen how broken he is, and I need to go to him, to comfort him - can’t you see? He’s so sad - I need to go to him, he’s my husband -_

_But I can’t get out of bloody Tuscany. When I finally make it to the airport, Mycroft has cancelled all the flights. But I *have* to talk to Sebastian..._

_There are payphones at the airport, but none of them work. Finally I get through to you, and I hear your voice, but you can’t hear me, because the bloody thing won’t take my euros. I’m trying, slotting the coins in again and again, trying to tell you not to kill yourself, I’m not dead, but you don’t hear me, and hang up..._

 

_When I wake, it's with a heavy heart. We are going to have to have that talk... and I *want* to, because of my immense guilt, but I'm also scared, because of that same guilt..._

_I sigh, look at my sleeping Tiger. You're not sleeping nearly as peacefully as you were earlier. You seem to be dreaming too. You're frowning and growling under your breath._

_I move over, cuddle you close._

 

 

I should have just left it alone...

We're walking on the beach, hand in hand... the sun is setting, and the sky is a cathedral of pink and gold.

We're talking, laughing softly, stopping to kiss each other... we're so happy.

I notice someone sitting on the sand... a man... he looks like he's fallen on hard times. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are red.

He's digging in the sand with a toy shovel, and mumbling to himself.

I want to see what's happening and you tell me sharply to leave it alone.

Then you return to talking and laughing, and try to pull me to wade with you along the shore.

"Jim, you're in a suit..." I realize, shocked. "You can't go wading in a suit..."

You look at me disbelievingly. "I can do _anything_ in a suit, Tiger," you say, sounding haughty. You proceed to do a series of handstands and cartwheels in the water.

I watch this in confusion, then decide to go see what the man is doing.

As I approach, I place my hand on his shoulder.

He snarls, and continues digging.

"Sir.. do you need help with something?" I ask, my heart pounding.

"Sir?? I gave that up a long time ago," he barks at me.

"Who - are you?" I demand, suddenly afraid.

I hear you laughing and splashing, calling me to join you.

"What's your name?" I insist.

"Sebastian?" I hear you shout. "Get away from him!"

I look up and see you watching, furious.

"I think he needs help!'' I call back.

"No! Get away from him! He's going to ruin _everything_!" You sink into the sand and start to cry.

I need to go to you... but as I turn back to look at the man one more time, I see a shape in front of him.

I peer over his shoulder.

It's you. He's digging you out of the sand.

You open your eyes, and there's a tear in the corner. "I'm not dead..." you whisper to the man.

My hand falls away from the man's shoulder.

He turns, and he has my face.

I stare in horror.

I'm on my knees, digging you out of the sand. And you're weeping and covering your face.

"Why?" you sob brokenly. “Why couldn't you have left it alone?"

 

 

_You seem to still be dreaming, and are distressed - I stroke your jaw, whisper “Seb? Sebbie - you’re dreaming... wake up, my love...”_

 

 

Beside me I hear your voice. Confused, I look at you in the sand - and we stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, before everything melts away.

My eyes open and I blink at you.

Oh. Right.

“Hey, baby,” I whisper, as you continue to stroke my face.

I pull you against me.

_Not a word, soldier._

 

 

_"You alright, Tiger? Bad dream?" I kiss your cheek and your neck._

 

 

“Bad men get bad dreams, sometimes...” I smile at you.

“I’m good.”

 

 

_"Good..."_

_I can see you're not though. Dreams can linger, I know that... and like me you are prone to nasty ones._

_"Let's get some coffee, clear our heads," I suggest, getting out of bed. Moving a bit and having a coffee will hopefully get rid of any nasty dream remnants and put you in the mood for the afternoon birthday celebrations..._

 

 

“Coffee sounds perfect...” I get up and follow you.

I recall your plan for the afternoon, catch up to you, slide my hands around your pert arse, and squeeze.

When you turn around, I’m grinning. “Does that get me another cane stroke, Kitten?”

 

 

_"As you wish, my Tiger..." I grin._

_I attack the coffee maker. I think I have worked it out, but it still requires concentration. I manage two perfect double espressos, present you one, flop onto a kitchen chair._

_"I can't wait to go clubbing with you, Tiger... what kind of establishment have you chosen? What should I wear?"_

 

 

I sink into a chair opposite you, sip my espresso and groan with pleasure.

"Oh, I found a place online that's owned by an American expat... it's about 40 minutes from here. It mainly does retro nights and karaoke. They have weekly gay nights, and lucky us, it's the night of your birthday! Apparently the owner's an old queen, and is in good with some criminal types, so they don't get any trouble with homophobes - no one wants to stir up a wasp's nest with his co-owners. So, most nights are apparently queer-friendly enough that people won't be bothered. The bouncers keep an eye out for that sort of thing." I take another sip of my espresso. "I'd say, wear whatever makes you feel like the gorgeous creature you are... something that you want to dance in, because honey, we are going to tear up the dance floor tonight..." I lean in and kiss you, delighted at how your eyes have lit up. "I'm so looking forward to this, Kitten..."

 

 

_A proper gay night? Excellent! I hadn't expected one. It will probably be song after song of music you dislike, poor Tigger... but then that should be more than made up for by the joy of dancing with me._

_We haven't been dancing in ages... I couldn't, really, after the trial - too well-known - and I was preoccupied..._

_We did like to go in the early days. You're an excellent dancer, though I am the better one, if I say so myself - but it was always a delight to see that hot body move and writhe... working up a sweat... muscles moving under glowing skin..._

_Hmmm..._

_"Me too, Tiger... you know how I *love* dancing... thank you so much for arranging this, I hadn't even thought about going out together, but it's a great idea... I can't wait to see your moves... but I do think I need to fuck you hard before we go, lest I am overcome with the need to do so on the dancefloor... even your progressive owner may have an issue with that."_

_I pull you close by your dog tags, kiss you smoulderingly._

 

 

I'm panting by the time you've kissed me thoroughly.

"Oh? I'd have thought you'd want to save our sexual energy for our evening... but if the birthday boy wants to fuck..." I look at you with hunger. "Then he'll have whatever the hell he wants..."

I kiss you back fiercely, and yank you against my body.

 

 

_"What, you think because I'm 37, I won't have any drive left tonight? I think I did mention an afternoon fuck and an evening shag. I do fully intend to honour that prediction. Also, think of your own libido, Tiger... how long do you think you can stand seeing me dance without pouncing me? No, best to blow off some steam now... glad to see you agree..." I grin, with a look towards your groin._

 

 

"I didn't think you wouldn't have any drive left," I return your grin, and begin to kiss your neck, making your head fall back. "I thought it might be even more exciting being out drinking and dancing while we were horny... but I suspect that will happen regardless... as soon as I see you move, you sexy little fucker," I growl, as I stand and haul you out of your chair. I pick you up, and begin to carry you to the bedroom.

"Fuck... there is no way I could have lasted until tonight..." I say in a hoarse voice, and kiss you.

 

 

_“My Tigger, there’s no way *anyone* can see me dance and not get horny,” I state haughtily. “Least of all you. And - I’ll tell you a secret...” I giggle as you kick the door to the bedroom open, “you dancing is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen...”_

_I laugh as you throw me onto the bed and pounce me, planting kisses on my face, neck, and ear._

_“I believe you have some light flagellation coming before this, Tiger...”_

_You hum agreement whilst not stopping your exploration of my neck._

_It’s a sweet and pleasant moment… but I’ve always liked inserting a bit of darkness... and it is my birthday..._

_I grab your hair, pull your head back. You look at me, your eyes dark, your mouth slightly open._

_“I love you Sebastian Moriarty. So fucking much. And you know that I love you most of all when I hear you groaning my name in pain._

_So, get up. Get undressed.”_

_I walk to the cupboard where we’ve put our stuff, get out my cane. Four feet of deliciously whippy rattan. I caress it lovingly. You’ve suffered so much at its exquisite sting..._

 

 

As I’m kissing and sucking your neck, I’m feeling like a lazy, horny Tiger...

but the moment you pull my head back by the hair, _mmm_. A kick of adrenaline, a flash of my eyes and a feral grin later, I’m getting up and shucking off my clothes.

And oh yes, little Seb is definitely interested in the proceedings...

I eye your cane as you approach. I haven’t done anything deserving of punishment today - quite the opposite - so it could be worse. But you don’t bring out your cane unless you’re ready to dole out some intense pain... my sweet, sadistic love.

“Where would you like me, birthday Sir?” I smile seductively at you, and my breath hitches in my throat as you move closer, looking like the statue you love so much...

 

 

_"Kneeling on the bed," I decide, pointing with the cane. "Move the pillows, hands on the headboard - and *keep it in one piece* please, we haven't got a new one upstairs yet - stick out your arse... perfect..."_

_I look at my gorgeous husband, obediently kneeling on our bed, your beautiful arse, still bruised from your last hiding - it seems so long ago though..._

_"So, you had three due from this morning, then you asked for another just now - let's make it six of the best, shall we? It's a time-honoured number, after all.."_

_I aim, lying the cane on the centre of your bottom, putting my left foot in front of the right, move my arm back - and with a practised motion slash down across both buttocks. A white stripe appears, quickly turning an angry red._

 

 

I suck in my breath. Oh, you - and your _wicked_ cane...

I suppose it would do no good to remind you that I need my arse to dance tonight. It would probably be considered 'asking for another'.

"One, Sir... Thank you, Sir..." I breathe, before I realize you didn't ask me to count.

 _God, you're an idiot, sometimes_ , I think to myself. I can't help wanting to laugh at how much, but wisely I keep it in.

I stick out my arse further.

 

 

_Huh - I sometimes make you count and/or thank me, but I've never had you do so spontaneously..._

_"Keen to get good boy points, Tiger?" I ask, smiling, noticing how you've pushed your arse out yet further - oh you delicious wanton masochist, Sebastian... I can see the warring feelings inside you, the urge to move away from the pain, yet the perverse longing for more..._

_I line up the cane an inch below the previous stripe, and lash down again._

 

 

"Oh _fuck_ ," I groan. "Two..."

My head drops down and I press it against the headboard.

My arse is smarting fiercely now - but with every moment that passes, the endorphins flow and I'm swept away with euphoric desire.

I exhale, and raise my head. I look back at you over my shoulder. "I do _aspire_ to be a good boy, Sir..." I aim for an earnest smile, but who am I fucking kidding? "Or, the closest a Tiger can be, Sir..." I amend, and push out my arse again.

 

 

_Your groaning, *so* beautiful... your hands clenching on the headboard, your head pressed against it in an effort to ride through the pain..._

_... and then you are up again, and snarky again... my beautiful Sebastian..._

_"You are the best Tiger a man could wish for, Sebastian," I smile. "With *such* a delectable arse, made for my discipline..."_

_*snap*_

 

 

" _Jesus_..." I gasp, flinching.

"Three... Sir..."

I breathe through the pain, and moan softly. "Permission to...use your name, Sir?"

I have three to go, and I'm already reaching that point of near-cracking. It would be nice to not have to control what I say, and just... let... go...

 

 

_"Granted," I say, in a soft voice. I did say I wanted to hear you groan my name in pain... Because it's so beautiful... I should have had that put on my wedding ring... though you roaring your orgasm is magnificent too._

_I aim the next one low, where your buttocks move into your thighs, such a sensitive spot... I strike *hard* - you want to use my name, Sebastian? Then use it well..._

 

 

"Oh _fuck_! JIM!" I cry out.

My cock twitches, and I press my cheek against the headboard.

God, I just want to start grinding against the headboard. I groan from the intensity of the pain and the searing, burning _pleasure_ of it.

"Four, Sir... you're fucking magnificent..." I moan.

 

 

_Yesss..._

_I breathe in, enchanted. That sound - *that* was the sound I was after... My name, with that little break in your voice in the middle of the vowel - I almost moan with the intensity._

_Two more to play with... make them count, Jim..._

_One slightly higher - the lowest fleshiest part of your buttocks. You will feel this when you sit down for the coming days..._

_*snap*_

 

 

" _God_ ," I groan. " _Jim_..."

Once more, my head drops. I lean against the headboard, sucking in my breath.

"Five... you beautiful... fucking... dark... prince..." I pant.

God, I want - I need-

Eyes squeezed shut, I moan helplessly.

 

 

_This is so much better when you have the freedom to speak... I love the words coming out of your mouth, they're as arousing as your groans, as your body tensing, your breath sucked between your teeth, as the reddening stripes on your arse..._

_I move over, touch them, feeling them stand up as ridges on those gorgeous buttocks, trail my fingers over them._

_"So beautiful, Sebastian... signs of your devotion to me, your obedience, your submission... *mine*... always..."_

_I kneel behind you, kiss the stripes, run my tongue over them, making you shiver. I move my tongue in between your cheeks, softly licking, making you moan..._

_I reach for the lube, put some on my finger, start gently fingering you._

 

 

I'm euphoric at your touch... my breath hitches as I feel your lips and tongue on the stripes you've administered...

I moan deep in my throat as your tongue moves between my cheeks... as you finger me... fuck, Jim...

"Always... always yours..." I ramble. "My always, my beautiful Sir... my dark lord..."

 

 

_You’re getting there, my love, my Tiger... getting to the place where you are just lost in pain and ecstasy, where you are entranced by me, enchanted, in rapture..._

_Do you have any idea how incredibly magnificent it is to evoke that in someone? Especially in someone so impressive as you? Especially in someone who I love so fucking much?_

_My entire body has a slight electric current running through it; I feel like I would give off a glow if put in a dark room._

_I think you’re ready for me..._

_I move back up, put some lube onto my cock, eager to get closer to you... you feel the same - my cock and you always are thick as thieves –_

_you moan as I move away._

_One moment, my dear..._

_I pick up the cane again, take careful aim, lash down, hard, diagonally crossing all my previous stripes._

 

 

I groan loudly, an animal sound, as my body tenses.

 _Painpainpain_ "oh _Fuck_ Jim," I moan... "Oh, fuck _me_..."

Pain and pleasure radiate through me in waves, and my hands grip the headboard hard.

"Oh my beautiful... oh my Jim," I groan, as I feel your cock press into my arse.

Yesss... Jim...

"I'm _fucking yours_ , Sir..." I growl, and press back against you.

 

 

_*minemineminemine*..._

_“*My* Tiger... *my* soldier... *my* beautiful arse... *mine*, always, forever...”_

_I push inside you, feeling the glow of your buttocks against my groin, the heat of your arse around me. I groan in pleasure, my head moves back, my eyes screw shut - fuck, Sebastian... so hot, so incredibly hot..._

_I’m inside you all the way, pause for a second to savour all the sensations..._

 

 

Oh god... as your cock surges into me, I feel almost dizzy from the rush of pleasure and desire - they mix with the throbbing pain from your cane strokes, and I whimper at the overwhelming sensations.

Now you're onto different kind of strokes, and you're so _gifted_ , you're _masterful_ , you're my god of fuck...

"Jesus Christ," I moan. "Oh fucking hell, you're magnificent..."

I lean my cheek against the headboard, and look back at you. "... like, you could have just climbed off that motherfucking horse on a pedestal... burst in here, thrashed me raw and started fucking me... you're a fucking god, Jim Moriarty..." I rave as your cock thrusts into me.

"My fucking god," I whisper, my eyelids fluttering shut.

 

 

_*Yes*, yes I am, I am your god, Sebastian, and you're my high priest, and I'll never let you down, my love, my life..._

_I fuck you hard - we both need this so much... my fingers dig into your hips, your fingers dig into the headboard, we're both moaning like porn stars in a special for the hard of hearing, and it doesn't take long, this was never going to take long - I pull you close, ram into you as hard as I can, shouting out my ecstasy for the whole world to hear..._

 

 

“OhMyGodOhMyGodJimYou’reSoFuckingHot...” I cry out as you fuck me.

Jesus Christ Almighty, how does this just keep getting hotter??

“OhFuckingGodOhMotherfucking _Christ_ ,” I shout, as your cock slams into me so hard, so deliciously hard, I swear I’m going to pass out from the intensity of it, the insane pleasure of it, God Seb, you’re such a fucking sensation junkie, oh _fucking sue me_ , this is my husband and he fucks me like a god, and I’ll have a screaming loud orgasm if I want. After him of course... I listen to you shout and feel you come hard inside me, and I moan with pleasure.

 

 

_The world goes black, for one endless moment. Time contracts and stretches out like in the Matrix. My pleasure, *so* intense, *so* overwhelming, pours through me, sending purple tendrils from my crotch all through my body. I shiver, shudder, buck, let my body perform its weird contortions, which apparently are required to maintain the species - god, human biology is strange..._

_Meanwhile you are getting damn close..._

_I fall onto your back, reach around to your cock, grab it and start moving my hand._

 

 

Oh god... no lag time, you're just going for giving me an orgasm. It feels less sweet and more voracious...

and possessive...

And _that_ is the hottest fucking thing I can imagine, and I let out a loud groan like I've been wounded, and that makes you go harder, and _ohgodohfuck_ I'm howling as you touch my cock like you own it, and you do, oh god you do, _fuuuuuuck_...

I move against your hand in violent spasms, coming all over your hand and the headboard as I moan with the insane pleasure of it... Jim...

I rest my head against the headboard, panting loudly.

You fall to the mattress, pulling me down with you.

When you look up at the sticky semen on the headboard, I grin dazedly at you.

"Brownie points for not breaking it, Sir...?" I ask, and blissfully close my eyes.

 

 

_Yes, my Tiger, my unrestrained Tiger, so gorgeous in your wildness, your wantonness, come for me, my love, my life, my husband..._

_God, you're magnificent - so feral in your sexuality..._

_I am pressed close against your back as you come, come like a man possessed - heh - of course - you are..._

 

_Oh. Oh this is a cloth headboard. Oh damn it..._

_Well - I can't really blame you for this... I mean, I did start wanking you... with the explicit aim of making you come... and then you came._

_I sigh. "I can't take you *anywhere*, can I, Tiger... no wonder I used to keep you on such a short leash. Unleash your Tiger and you pay a fortune in the replacement of household goods..."_

_You grin and pull me close. I relax my head on your shoulder, smiling._

_"Oh well... it's a good thing we're rich..."_

 

 

"Oh yeah, just add this to the list," I say, flapping my hand casually. Eyes still closed, I grin. "Oh god, we actually _do_ have a list and we haven't replaced anything we've destroyed... we're bloody savages. Yes, Jim... I _know_ the headboards and the patio furniture were my doing..." I smirk, and then my eyes fly open. "Mrs Álvarez brought the food... and... she probably saw the bullet holes in the patio furniture..." I snigger. "I'm sure she was _not_ impressed..."

I'm feeling so light and free. You're officially a year older, and I feel like a teenager again - the teenager I never got to be after David's death. I feel a twinge of pain, and then sense David smiling happily at me. You're right, darling - it's time to finally be free.

"I'm so looking forward to tonight, baby..." I croon. "It's been too long... I can't wait to see you shake your sexy arse on the dance floor... I'll try very hard to not mount you before we get home. But no promises..."

 

 

_“Mrs Álvarez already knew about those... do you honestly think the cleaners don’t tell her everything? She’s texted me to ask what we want replaced. I said just the upstairs bed for now... Any pretty vases or crockery will just get the Tiger treatment, and the furniture works just fine.”_

_You ‘hmph’ at that, and I giggle._

_“I can’t wait either... it’s been so long since we went dancing - it must have been at least two years. Can’t wait to see if you still got it... what are you going to wear? What should I wear? Should I have had my hair cut? Is it getting too long down the back? How hot is it going to be?”_

 

 

"You're texting with Mrs Álvarez now? What else don't I know?" I nudge you playfully. "At least we have the perfect people to take care of the villa when we're away... some day." I consider this for a moment, then look at you. "Tiger treatment?? Jesus... you break most of the crockery, a bunch of glasses, and a headboard... you shoot up the patio furniture and a coconut... and you never hear the end of it!!"

I grin at you. "I don't know, love... whatever you wear, you'll look gorgeous. Your hair is _fine_ \- no, _perfect_ ," I correct myself hastily. "You had that avocado treatment just this afternoon, remember? You're welcome. I'm sure they'll have AC, but you shouldn't dress too warmly. Maybe a t-shirt and trousers? That's what I'll be wearing... I've arranged a driver for us, so we'll have a car waiting as soon as we're ready to leave. We can dance and drink as much as we like, then take off and _really_ celebrate..."

 

 

_“Don't forget two designer vases and a lamp..." I grin._

_A t-shirt and trousers?! What do you think, I was born in a barn? *Honestly*, honey._

_I hop off the bed, pull you up, grab your dog tags and pull you into the shower. The one here is simpler than the one upstairs, but just as comfortable. We wash each other with black peppercorn shower gel, wash our hair (and you condition mine, you maintain yours doesn't need conditioner), and towel off._

_I grab my phone and start a playlist - Britney sounds from the bedroom speakers, and I dance towards the dressing table._

 

You know I can make your night

You wanna get it?

 

_Hair slick back. Clippers set to classy stubble. Clive Christian's X._

 

I call the shots (call the shots)

I'm like a firecracker

I make it hot

 

_I dance to the wardrobe._

_Hmmm... tight silk black briefs, of course. No undershirt... just a black silk shirt. I have light linen, but I long to go full black tonight... a black fresco wool suit? I try it on - fuck, Jim baby, you look *awesome*. I would fuck me._

 

Mama I'm in love with a criminal

And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical

 

_A nice tie - the one you gave me a few years ago, with skulls? No - that may remind you of previous birthdays and we don't want that today. A shiny cashmere tie, subtle pattern woven in it - and of course my Santa Muerte tie pin._

_Thin black wool socks. Black shoes. My wedding ring, baby..._

 

Baby give me it

You're dangerous

I'm loving it

 

_I dance towards you, do a pirouette, stop with one arm raised, head tilted back. Then I raise my head back up, and look at you._

_"What do you think?"_

 

 

Oh god, one of your infernal playlists... I'm going to be hearing this one forever, aren't I?

I shake my head as I pull a black T-shirt and black army trousers out of my cupboard, and glance back to see you dancing around the room, singing to Britney - I'm annoyed with the music and totally fucking in love with this moment.

To be celebrating the birthday of the man I love - not just any man. _Jim_... the man of my fucking dreams. God - the joy of being exasperated with the one you adore... I never thought I'd experience it - at least with someone who loved me _back_. I sigh with contentment.

As I get dressed, I watch you paw through clothing in your wardrobe. You're selecting items that I would have warned you against - wool, sweetie?? But it's your birthday, and I don't want to spoil your fun.

I find myself singing before I've realised what I'm doing,

 

_He is a villain by the devil's law_

_He is a killer just for fun, fun, fun, fun_

 

I groan. God, this always happens... you play your damn songs so often, I can't help but absorb the lyrics. I love discovering that I've been singing along to something like PokerFace by Lady Gaga as I wait in line at Tesco's.

 

In a moment, I'm dressed and ready. I sit on the bed, checking e-mail on my phone as you finish getting ready. Suddenly I become aware of you dancing towards me, and finishing with a flourish.

I stare at you. "God, baby... you look _so hot_... everyone in the club will have their eyes on you... especially when you start dancing like that, you gorgeous creature... "

I walk towards you, and pull you against my body. “But you're coming home with _me_ , and they can choke on their envy."

I can't believe my good fortune. Whenever we went dancing in the past, we weren't _together_ together... this is the first time we'll have gone out as a proper couple. I can't wait to show off how hot we are together - you'll love that, my adorable narcissist...

 

 

_I look you up and down. You bastard, Moran. Here I am, having spent half an hour to look fucking amazing, and you just pull on trousers and a t-shirt, clip your stubble, and you look to *die* for. Or kill for, at least._

_"Why do I bother?!" I pout. "No one is going to look at me when *you* are around..._

_Though," I cheer up, "they will when you're dancing with me; wondering how incredibly good I must be in bed to have landed you..."_

_Your filthy grin lights up the room - *fuck*, what a great idea to go dancing, Tiger. I fucking *love* you, love how hot you are, how hot we *both* are, and I love the idea of showing you off. I've always loved showing you off - casually mentioning how you'd kept me up all night when meeting a client, slapping your arse when leaving a business meeting - but now I am actually allowing myself emotions, actually allowing myself to be in love... it's going to be so much sweeter..._

_"Ready, my fucking gorgeous husband?" I grin._

 

 

"Ready, Kitten." I smile at you, and pull you in for a kiss.

"I told the driver to be waiting for us by 9, so he should be out there already..." I peek out through the curtains. "And so he is."

I extend an arm to you. "Darling? Shall we?"

You take my arm, looking beautifully lean and dangerous all in black. I can't wait to see your moves on the dance floor.

"Damn, you're beautiful... someone should immortalize you in marble," I grin, as we saunter towards the front door.

You smile at me fiercely, and I feel momentarily breathless.

I fumble at the lock, and giving me a knowing look, you take the key away from me and lock up.

We just fucked not that long ago, and you already have my blood simmering with a smile. Jesus... what is it about you that sets my entire body on fire at a _look_?

We walk out into the night air, fragrant with seawater and exotic flowers, and I take in a deep breath. The starry sky feels potent and majestic, and we are bathed in moonlight as you walk towards the car with me close behind you. I scan our surroundings and the driver, and seeing nothing to threaten my darling, we slide into the car. The driver confirms our destination, and we're off. Your party playlist starts up, and the opening notes to Donna Summer's I Feel Love fill the car. I pull a flask out of my back pocket, and I take a slug of whiskey. I hold it out to you, grinning madly.

"I just have this feeling, Jim... I think it's going to be a hell of a night..."

 


	3. Just Can't Get Enough

_I take a big gulp, feel the pleasant burn descend through my throat. For once, it's not your cheap gut rot, but a pleasant smoky single malt - peaty - an old Islay... hold on... "Ardbeg 1975?" I ask. You grin and nod. "Nice touch..." I grin back. My birth year - and one of my favourite whiskeys. God, Tiger, you think of everything..._

_I look out at the night speeding by, tapping my foot to the track playing. I can't wait to dance again..._

_You are fondling my hand, then my knee, then my thigh, then my arse, and I am kissing you before ten minutes are up. Fuck, how are we ever going to make it to the club without fucking in the back of the car and messing up my pristine outfit?_

_"Tiger..." I complain. "You're too hot and you're deliberately seducing me. Naughty kitty..."_

 

 

"Seducing you?" I ask lazily from where I'm sprawled in the back seat. "I'm just being affectionate. I wouldn't _dream_ of messing up your pristine outfit, baby.."

I was totally thinking of messing up your pristine outfit, but obviously I can't _now_... or not at this moment, anyway. You look at me knowingly, and I wink at you.

"Ohh, don't look at me like that. I'll behave..." I pout, and you shake your head.

Ten minutes later, my hand is back on your thigh, and I smile innocently as you raise an eyebrow at me.

 

 

_“Tiger. You don’t know the word behave, except when followed by badly...” I sigh. “How are we ever going to make an *entrance* if we’re all dishevelled? And if you’re going to keep me from making an *entrance*...” I glare at you, “... my revenge shall be terrible...”_

_You grin mock-meekly. I stare at your hand, still creeping up my thigh._

_“I mean it... I will go alone and bribe the bouncers not to let you in. Then when you’ve counterbribed your way in, I’ll dance with every pretty boy in the room, ignoring my husband... and then maybe let one of them *touch* me... and then it’ll be a bloodbath... ‘No, officer, I’ve never seen this man in my life! He just started punching poor Fernando...’”_

 

 

I react as though I'd received an arrow to the heart. "No! You would do that to me, babe?" I look at you with a ridiculously anguished face. "On the special night out I planned for you?"

You turn up your nose, a smile playing on your lips.

"I'll behave, baby..." I wheedle. "Any pretty boy who touches you wouldn't be pretty once I'm done with him, anyway... Security be damned..."

Archly you look down at my hand, now on your upper thigh.

I grin and remove the offending hand from your body. "Can't blame a Tiger for trying. You're irresistible, and you know it."

Pouting, I take your hand. "Is this allowed? No dishevelment, no bloodbath?"

 

 

_“Tell you what, Tiger,” I say magnanimously, “if we get too hot, I’m sure the club has cooling-down rooms for their most esteemed customers. Much more comfortable than the backseat of a car.”_

_As I say that, I recall the drive to Heathrow, a lifetime ago... You over the seat, me taking you..._

_that was a pivotal point, for us..._

_I look at you, your grin fading as you see my serious expression. I smile at you, and you smile back, and I’m overwhelmed with love... it almost aches... is that normal? Probably; I’ve had it a couple of times already..._

_I move your hand to my mouth, kiss it._

_“I love you, my Tiger...”_

_We sit in companionable silence for the rest of the trip, my head on your shoulder, your arm around me._

 

 

As we enter a nearby town, I watch out the window to see what else is in our vicinity, should we want to venture out for more sightseeing or adventures. We pass by a few clothing stores (closed), bars and restaurants (bustling with people). It looks there's a very active nightlife here... I like that it's close enough to get there without being so close as to risk getting into trouble near our home... I chastise myself for thinking that way. Who said we have to get into trouble every time we leave the house? I'm sure we're capable of having a fun night out without crime sprees and hospital visits... yes, _of course_ we can. I hear the _thumpa thumpa_ of club music, and we drive down a strip of dance clubs. The car turns down several side streets - the kind you'd have to know where you were going to turn down. In a warehouse district, we see a club with a sedate sign reading "Fascination Street Retro Bar” - must be English-speaking clientele.

As we pull up to the club, the music pouring out sounds distinctly synthy 80's pop, and it makes your eyes light up.

"Ready to carve up the dance floor, baby?" I grin, and open the door.

 

 

_Oooooh, Take On Me... a good start. I stand in front of you, you look me up and down, pull the right shoulder of my suit slightly, step back, give me the thumbs up. We head inside and you open the door to the club just as the song changes. I stride down side-lit stairs to Girls Just Want To Have Fun, you one step behind me._

_The club is not very full yet, but there are enough people to give it a pleasant vibe. A disco ball and coloured lights shine on the dance floor, where around a dozen people are moving. Bars around the side are the main focus of the clientele at the moment, it seems, while a few groups are talking animatedly in booths. A few people look up as we arrive - the stairs are obviously there to showcase new arrivals. Eyes linger, conversations halt._

_Yeah, peasants. Behold. The King has arrived._

_You gently put your hand on the small of my back, motion to the back of the club. We walk down the side to where a few steps leading to a dais are roped off. You undo the rope, nod at me, and I walk up the five steps to a raised booth overlooking the dance floor, a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket waiting. I smile at you as you open the bottle and pour us both a glass - "Cheers, baby!"_

_I have a sip - Moët et Chandon, not great, but who cares, we're here to party, not to drink. I let a few songs go by that are mediocre - I want our first appearance on the dance floor to make an impact._

_Then I hear the familiar sounds of an organ, and I grin at you. You grin back, and we descend the few steps to the floor. I stride to the empty middle, arriving exactly when the guitar starts._

_A few moves of the body, no feet yet -_

_and there is the bass._

 

Well I guess it would be nice

If I could touch your body

 

 

As soon as we enter the main room of the club, I feel _that rush_...

the lights...

the throbbing music...

the excitement in the air... I feel a surge of hormones and adrenaline, and lift my head and close my eyes briefly.

Dancing...

Gay club...

With my husband... _Jim_...

Eyes swing to us, and you're pleased, and _I'm_ pleased - you got your entrance. I show you to the private VIP area I've reserved. Soon you're holding court, we're sipping champagne, listening to music... And then - George Michael's Faith is on, and suddenly we're on the dance floor.

And holy _fuck_ , have I missed this...

The moment I see you move, I'm transfixed.

 

_I know not everybody_

_Has got a body like you, uhh_

 

You're moving around me, looking at me pointedly - I throw my head back and laugh, and begin to move my hips.

 

_But I've got to think twice_

_Before I give my heart away_

 

I pat my heart, pouting at you, and you smirk as I move towards you.

 

_And I know all the games you play_

_Because I play them too_

 

I slide my hands around your hips, and pull you to me, grinning down at you.

 

 

_Oh, touching already? Careful Tiger, you don't want to get too carried away too soon..._

_I brush against you, just the once, step back, step to the side._

 

But I need some time off from that emotion

Time to pick my heart up off the floor

 

_I look at you, our eyes locked as our bodies move._

 

When that love comes down without devotion

Well it takes a strong man baby but I'm showing you the door

 

_It's *so good* to dance again - I can't *believe* I've gone so long without. Yeah, I danced a bit on my own, moving to playlists in whatever rooms I was in, but *this*... a full floor to make my own, an *audience*, and most deliciously of all, the hottest guy in the room dancing with me, looking at me with true worship in his eyes._

 

_As the song finishes, we are the undisputed centre of the floor. Some people are still bravely making their moves towards the sides, but several others have given up and are watching us instead._

_A synthy tune follows it, and we're both grinning as we start moving - Just Can't Get Enough by Depeche Mode - even you like this._

 

 

Our bodies are moving to the music, flowing as if we do this all the time...

 

_When I'm with you baby_

_I go out of my head_

_And I just can't get enough_

 

It's amazing how often lyrics feel like they're specifically about us. You keep moving closer and then dancing away. You little minx, playing hard to get... I smirk at you. You know I'm going to get my hands on you sooner rather than later...

 

As we dance, without a bloody care in the world, it suddenly strikes me - no one knows we're here. No one knows you're _alive_... and here we are on the other side of the Atlantic - dancing up a storm in a gay bar in Mexico... celebrating your birthday. Bloody fucking Mycroft and that insufferable tit _Sherlock_... their eyes would pop out of their heads if they saw us now.

I pull you to me, and twirl you around. My head falling back, I laugh wildly. You look at me questioningly, but with pleasure in your eyes. I shake my head. No way in hell am I bringing that up. I mouth _I love you_ , let you go, and dance away feeling lighter and freer than I have in bloody years.

 

 

colour me your colour baby

colour me your car...

 

_Fuck, I'm having an *amazing* time. Every song is perfect, my moves are smooth, and it feels so good to let my body loose to do its thing to the music. I've always *loved* music and dancing - when I was little, I wanted to become a ballet dancer. Mam didn't have money for lessons, of course, but I got books from the library, and danced to the radio, already imagining myself a star..._

_And you - you had your ballroom lessons of course, like the son of a Lord, but your moves are so incredibly graceful mostly because you are so - physical -_

_every muscle does exactly what it should and only what it should at any one moment. You are like your feline namesake - every motion precise and accurate and - elegant, I can find no other word._

_There is no doubt that all eyes are on us; even couples which are engrossed in each other occasionally steal glances at us._

_After half an hour some Latin classics start up that I don't know, and yeah, it's probably time to get back to that bottle, before it gets warm. I hook my finger into the collar of your shirt, pull you towards me for a quick kiss, and point to our booth._

 

 

We're sipping our champagne, while you have your leg slung over my lap, looking very much like a king surveying his realm. Which _clearly_ you are... everywhere you go is yours, my beautiful love. But a gay bar? It's in the palm of your hand.

An older gentleman in a blue blazer and an open white shirt wanders over with a martini glass. He's attractive and fit, with grey at his temples. "Hello," he says grandly, in his American accent - sounds coastal... California? "I'm the owner, Armand. How are you lovely gentlemen enjoying yourselves?"

"Very much," I smile at him. "We were delighted to discover your fine establishment."

"Ohh, British!" he croons. "Love the accent, doll. We get a lot of tourists here, who hear about the music and the well, protected zone. Sometimes I think I opened the club just to attract men from around the world," he sighs, then clutches his chest dramatically. "Still haven't found love, though!" He winks at us. "But the clients help console me."

I raise an eyebrow, smiling. "I'm sure they do..."

"What are your names, my dears?" he inquires.

"I'm Jake, and this is my husband Adam. We're on honeymoon." I slide an arm around you.

"Honeymoon! Oh! You give an old codger hope that love does exist. Well, I hope you come back before you return home, dearies... we have monthly theme nights - Queen is coming up next. And we have weekly karaoke nights, they're such a hoot!"

"Sounds fun. Don't you think, darling?" I smirk at the thought of you doing karaoke. Maybe if you were playing a role, and a little tipsy.

 

 

_Didn't a private booth mean we wouldn't be disturbed by plebeians?_

_Oh, it's the owner... probably worth keeping friendly, then. I smile indulgently as you and he chat, and he fruitlessly attempts to hide the fact that he fancies the pants off you. It's alright, Armand, I'm feeling magnanimous... just don't touch him and you can drool over him all you like._

_Wait - Queen!?_

_I look at you, you are smirking at me - what?! Oh, the karaoke. Yeah, fuck that. But Queen! Tiger! Queen! The artists who wrote the soundtrack to my life! The one band we *both* love!_

_"I'm not too sure about the karaoke," I smile at Armand. "I'm afraid neither of us is a very good singer..." I ignore his protests that that doesn't matter at *all* - "but we are both very fond of Queen. When is that?"_

_He turns to me, politely turning on the charm in the same degree as he had with you - good attempt, Armand... "Next week, in fact - Thursday - will you still be around, or are you doing a tour?"_

_"We'll still be here," I smile._

_He beams. "That is great to hear! I'll leave you two lovebirds alone, but if you need *anything*, just let any one of the staff know. We're all *very* keen that all our guests have the best time possible."_

_With a deep bow, he departs, though not without using the opportunity to scan you from toe to head._

_Something to add to the wank bank, Armand? Enjoy... I'm feeling lenient tonight._

 

 

I pour the remaining champagne into your glass, and hold the bottle upside down.

"Damn... should have asked Armand to be a doll and send more booze our way..." I grin at you. I look around and see that the club is filling up slowly. The servers are being kept busy.

"I'm not waiting for someone to take our orders. I need a real drink. Rum and coke, babe?"

You nod, and I kiss your hand before going down the stairs and stepping over the velvet rope. As I descend, I hear you singing to the music,

 

_Oo, you've got green eyes, oh, you've got blue eyes, you've got grey eyes_

_And I've never seen anyone quite like you before_

_No, I've never met anyone quite like you before_

 

Back turned to you, I make a face like I just saw the sweetest kitten picture ever, and stride to the bar.

At the bar as I'm waiting for our drinks, I hear an American accented, "Oh, _hello_ ," and glance up to see a very tall, very muscular man with long dark hair and a beard. He looks remarkably like Khal Drogo in a leather jacket and trousers, and biker boots.

"Hey," I say out loud, and _Oh, shit_ in my head. _Don't look, Jim..._

I swivel my head back towards the bartender.

_Hurry the fuck up, mate..._

"So... been here before?" He asks in a deep voice, and plants his muscular forearms on the bar.

"Nope. Just here on my honeymoon," I say politely.

"Ooooh, newlywed!" he says in a lightly mocking tone. "Wanna introduce me to the mister, beautiful? There's plenty of me to go around..."

I stare at him in surprise. "I'm sure that will make some drunk twink very happy..." I say cheerily, and I bare my teeth in a smile of warning.

Biker Drogo leers back, obviously unconcerned.

Finally the drinks are slid down the bar at me, and I push my pesos at the bartender.

I head back to the dais as Duran Duran's Wild Boys plays, shaking my head.

You arch an eyebrow at me, and I groan. Of course you saw everything.

I mount the stairs, eyeing you. "Nothing to worry about, baby. Don't let drunk letches put a damper on our fun..."

I hand you your drink, and caress your hair before moving in for a kiss.

 

 

_Oh, the first candidate for bloody mayhem presents himself..._

_I do *not* like the look of him *at all*, with his *muscles* and *long hair* and *beard* and *tan* and *height* and *leather*. And *especially* with the way he's chatting you up..._

_You're too far away to hear, but I can lip-read just fine. You have your back to me, but his words are crystal clear._

_You save yourself by bringing up your marital status immediately, but Biker Berk is not fazed in the slightest and is interested in meeting me..._

_Ooooh, yes... ooooh, do, Tiger, bring him over here... introduce him to me... he will remember that encounter for the *rest* of his *life*..._

_I notice there's a crazed grin on my face - get that off, Moriarty. You're in the outside world again. Don't ever let anyone see you._

_Whatever you're saying next, he's still leering..._

_You almost run away from him, back to the relative safety of our booth. Oh, poor Tigger... afraid of sweet little Kitten's jealousy?_

 

_"Oh honey... You're telling *me* that I don't need to worry? Do I look worried?" I gesture at myself._

_"*You* look worried though..." I lean over, wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. "Don't you fret, my sweet Tigger... I know you are irresistible, and you're going to have guys drooling over you wherever you go. As long as you don't *encourage* them, you have nothing to worry about... and it was obvious that you were trying to get him to bugger off. No, *he* is the one who should be worried... you should have taken him up on his offer, Seb... introduced him to the mister..." I grin._

 

 

"No, I didn't mean you needed to _worry_ -" I sigh heavily. "I just don't want anything to interfere with your fun tonight..." I watch you closely. Unless that's the kind of fun you _want_?

 

_Wild boys, never close your eyes_

_Wild boys always shine_

 

"Welll, we _could_ just have a fun night out without purposefully introducing variables that could explode into violence..." I grin at you. "You do want to return here, don't you? Thursday night? Queen? So, no - I don't think I should have introduced the large biker to my mister... quite honestly, I don't trust that he'd be bright enough to heed your friendly warning..."

 

Tainted Love begins to play, and I see fire in your eyes. "Although, if you wanted to put on a show to make a point... that might be fun..." I wink.

I raise a glass to yours.

 _Clink_.

 

 

_My adorable Tiger, always up for whatever mischief I may have in mind..._

_'Hey, Sebbie, wanna fight a biker gang?' 'Sure, Boss. Let me get my weapons.'_

_But it's alright... if our friend lies low from now on, I'm not going to spoil Armand's perfect haven with violence and bloodshed. I *am* having a good time; the music is *excellent*, and I do want to dance some more; and people can get so funny about letting you use their dance floor after you've spilt blood on it._

_Speaking of dancing, I've cooled down enough - am keen to get back. Let's see what the next song brings..._

_Tainted Love fades away into a familiar synthesizer sound - perfect. They do have a great DJ here..._

_I nod to you, descend the few steps, knowing you're right behind. The floor is much fuller, but there's space for us._

 

Looking out a dirty old window

Down below the cars in the city go rushing by

I sit here alone and I wonder why

 

 

I watch you as you mark out your territory, glaring at anyone who tries to encroach upon your stage.

I glance at the bar, and see Biker Drogo chatting up a giggling blonde man. Drunk twink - do I know how to call it?

Satisfied, I look back to where you've begun your dance...

 

_Bright lights, the music gets faster_

_Look, boy, don't check on your watch, not another glance_

_I'm not leaving now, honey, not a chance_

 

You're spinning, raising your arms. People can't help but watch once you get going.

I watch you hungrily as I sway from side to side.

 

_Hot-shot, give me no problems_

_Much later, baby, you'll be saying nevermind_

_You know life is cruel, life is never kind_

 

I move closer and slide my arms around your neck. I know you'll want freedom to move soon, but it feels so good to dance with you up close and personal. Gently I press my hips against you, and move my hand down your chest.

Fuck, you feel good...

 

 

_Oh, yes baby, show them whose you are..._

_I let my hips move while my arms rise to fall onto your shoulders. Your eyes gaze into mine, hungry - of course, Tiger, you never change... - and your hands try to pull me closer. I let you, for a moment, then smile as I spin out of your grip, only to return a moment later._

 

Come closer, honey, that's better

Got to get a brand-new experience, feeling right

Oh, don't try to stop, baby, hold me tight

 

_Now it's my turn to press myself against you, and we're dancing body to body, our movements matching perfectly – and why should that surprise me? You always know what my next move is going to be, why not when dancing?_

 

_I move away again, and closer, and we're a perfect pair, and you're moving so smoothly, as am I; it's like the rest of the dance floor doesn't exist..._

_The chorus dies away, and a plaintive guitar starts up. We look at each other - you look unsure for a moment - but my arms wrap around your neck and yours wrap around my back, and we sway together slowly, as I sing along, almost inaudibly, but I know you hear._

 

I never meant to cause you any sorrow

I never meant to cause you any pain

 

 

Ohhh... I have been _loving_ our slow dances, and now we're going to have one in public?

I almost need to pinch myself.

Seb of the past could never in a _million_ years have imagined this, in his wildest dreams...

I listen to you sing to me, and I press my cheek against your hair.

I press my hand to the small of your back, and you arch back against it.

I take your face in my hands, and kiss you as Prince croons.

We sway together for the duration of the song, and we're kissing again as it draws to a close.

And still kissing as we hear,

 

_Give it to me one time now_

 

We break apart and I drink in your smouldering smile.

 

_Relax don't do it_

_When you want to go to it_

_Relax don't do it_

_When you want to come_

 

I laugh as we start to dance, only this time we don't move apart.

Your hands are on me possessively, and my hips press hard against yours.

I grind against your hips, and slowly slide down your body before dropping to my knees before you.

 

_Got to hit me_

_Hit me_

_Hit me with those laser beams_

 

I slowly rise up your body and loom over you, before sliding my arms around you again.

 

I feel hands on my arse, and I grin at you. But you're staring behind me.

_Oh no... he didn’t..._

I look behind me to see Biker Drogo smiling lasciviously - but at you. He leans in.

"So you're the one I have to convince, huh..." he booms. "No complaints here - you're just a sexy little _muffin_ , aren't you? I'd take two of you, and one of your sexy-ass husband..."

He slides one arm around each of us.

I raise my eyebrows at you. _Do you want me to take care of this, or -_

You're smiling like a delighted demon. Oh, shit...

 

 

_You're looking worried - oh come *on*, Sebbie, you wouldn't deny me this? It's my *birthday*!_

_I smile at Biker Bonehead, slightly shyly, mostly flirty. "Oh - *hello*!"_

_... sexy little muffin..._

_I glare at his illiterate hand on my hip, then raise a smile to his beaming face._

_"I saw you talking to my husband earlier... he is sexy, isn't he..." I smile. I don't even attempt to hide the danger in my smile - this guy is so thick he won't recognize it._

_"He is!" he grins. "As are you - I would say the three of us are the hottest guys in this establishment... and it would be a shame to waste that, wouldn't it?"_

_"Ohhh, now, what could you *possibly* mean?" I grin. "Are you suggesting bad bad things?"_

_He laughs. "I'm a bit of a bad boy... do you like bad boys?"_

_"As a matter of fact I do... don't I, darling..." I smile at you, you smile back. "You certainly do, honeycake..."_

_Oh god no - not the ridiculous terms of endearment again. I won't be able to keep a straight face..._

_"It's a beautiful night out," Blockhead observes suggestively. "Would you like to go have a look at the moon?"_

_Why not... why not indeed..._

_I look at you and smile, you smile back, for all the world like we're both excited at the prospect... and we are, oh darling, we are..._

_I reach out my hand. "Adam." I state. "You've met my husband, Jake."_

_"Encantado!" he says. "Gus. Great to meet you two..." He moves towards the stairs._

_We follow, giggling, come out into the car park, which has several couples making out in differing states of concealment._

_I walk to the side, nod to a gate in a fence._

_"This doesn't seem locked... and leads to the yard of a shop... We'd have a bit more... privacy than out here?"_

_"Oh I *looove* your accent," he bleats. "I love English accents, they're just so sophisticated..."_

_Oh good, please keep digging your grave..._

 

 

All right, at first I was worried about spoiling your fun on your birthday... then I was worried about causing a scene in the club... but since we moved this little scenario to an abandoned lot... and you seem pleased as punch... I'm just going to go with it. You're beaming at me, as if I _arranged_ this for you... oh my adorable little psycho. Nothing like a spot of indignant violence to make your evening complete...

As we enter the yard, I hear Gus's comments about your English accent. And I swear to the gods, I don't mean to laugh out loud. It's like all the various stresses of the day explode into one moment. I clear my throat. "Sorry. Uh... I've had a little more to drink than I thought... we just have a running joke about whose English accent is more sophisticated..."

You're rolling your eyes mightily at me behind Gus, and making an obscene gesture with your tongue.

Gus guffaws - he actually guffaws. "You English... you're so funny."

"And you Americans..." I laugh fake-heartily. "Are so - bloody-"

"Jake, darling..." you interject. "You're cut off. Now do try to keep it together... It's not every day a dreamy American hunk propositions us."

"Sorry, dreamy hunk...” I say with flashing eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"I thought we could spit-roast your adorable husband... he'd blow you while I fuck him. Then I fuck you, gorgeous. I promise I'll be gentle..." he winks and stalks towards me. "But I have a feeling you like it rough... don’t you, Jakey?”

I watch him move closer to me, and I smile brightly at him until he grabs my cock.

I slide out of his grasp, itching to punch him out cold. "Dumpling?" I say emphatically. "What do _you_ think of Gus's proposition?"

 

 

_Oh, Gus... you beautiful suicidal specimen..._

_"I think that sounds quite dreamy...” I blush, “but this ground is rather filthy... and the smell of bins... Can you get us inside, buttercup?”_

_You look at the back door, start poking at it. Gus is delighted. “Oh, you do like your bad boys! What a great idea... not just a pretty face, huh...”_

_Oh._

_The problem with you fiddling with the door is that now Gus’s paws are all over me._

_He’s grabbing. My arse._

_That’s fine, Gus, we’ll just add it to the list, shall we? I cough, you look around and spot my predicament._

_“Here, Gus, can you give me a hand?” you ask. “I need you to give a very hard yank on the handle...”_

_Bless you, Tiger. Gus is only too keen to show off his strength, and pulls the handle straight off. The door opens. We enter into a side room with a washer and dryer, which leads into a small kitchen with a door to the main shop area. You close the back door behind us. Much better - less chance of people hearing things and interfering..._

_The blinds are closed and it’s quite dark, and the light switch doesn’t appear to have an effect. I notice a stovetop though, which I manage to light._

_“Isn’t that romantic?” I squee. “It’s like candlelight!”_

_I turn to Gus. “You’re too tall...” I say, my hand running over his chest. I push him down onto a kitchen chair, set myself on his lap as you walk around him. He’s pulling me close for a kiss when he freezes at the sound of a gun being cocked._

_I get up off his lap. He’s looking bewildered, staring at me, trying to see your hand holding the gun against his neck. “Hey - guys - what the hell...”_

_“Oh, Gus…” I gush. “I thought you liked bad boys? You’re in luck… you’ve encountered the *worst*…”_

_“Alright – come on, guys, I’m – I don’t like this. I’m all for a bit of rough play, but let’s put the gun away, alright?” he chuckles half-heartedly._

_“See, Gus, I’m a bit of an old-fashioned fellow…” I explain, ignoring him. “And when I’m dancing with my gorgeous husband, on our honeymoon, and someone touches him – I get upset. Because *no one* touches what belongs to Jim Moriarty.”_

_His eyes grow large._

_“Moriarty?!”_

_Ah, it’s good when one’s reputation precedes one._

_“You’re *Moriarty*!?”_

_I never like how Americans pronounce my name, though._

_“But – you’re dead – oh! Oh motherfucker… not dead… lying low in Mexico… oh, that’s awesome!”_

_People often focus on the silliest things when they’re about to die. In Gus’s case, this appears to be full Moriarty fanboying. I have to admit, as survival strategies go, it would probably be the most effective one, had his death sentence not already been signed._

_“Moriarty – god, yes, now I recognize you! You look taller in your pictures…”_

_… yes, definitely signed…_

_“That’s so amazing, that I get to meet you in person! Hey – I’m sorry I touched your husband,” he throws up his hands. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you? He is *very* hot – as are you – meaning no disrespect, of course –“_

_“I know, Gus, but – you have to realize,” I say, my face taking on a sad expression, “there are *rules*. Because without rules, where would we be? And one of the rules is that no one touches what belongs to me. And you did, Gus… you touched my Sebbie. And not even a friendly tap on the shoulder, or a firm handshake… no, your first touch was both hands on his arse. His very fine arse, that belongs to me. And not much later, you put your hand on his *cock*._

_That’s harassment, Gus. Surely you understand that I can not let that go unpunished? On my *birthday*, no less!”_

_“Look – I’m so sorry – I had *no* idea who you guys were, of course – I thought you were just there to party – look, I won’t touch anyone ever again, alright? And I won’t breathe a word of you being here, of course…”_

_“No, no, NO, Gus, you don’t understand – it’s my *birthday*!”_

_“Happy birthday, Mr Moriarty?” he tries._

_“*Thank* you,” I say, cheering up. “And you got me the *best* present!!”_

_He looks at me, unsure._

_“See,” I say, as I’m loosening my tie, “I’m a bit of a sadistic psychopath. As you would have noticed if you’d seen my dear Seb naked. Which of course you are not going to see, or I would have to punish your eyes as well as your hands.”_

_I pull off my jacket, pull my tie over my head, hang both on a chair that I move to the side room._

_“And the problem with a honeymoon is, that one gets *so* little chance to indulge in one’s more adventurous pursuits…” I continue, unbuttoning my shirt. I take it off, drape it over the chair as well._

_“My dearest Tiger here is remarkable in all aspects, but I can’t *damage* him, of course… he’s too pretty and sweet for that,” I smile sweetly at you as I toe off my shoes, then undo my trousers, take them and my socks off, put everything on the chair. I’m standing in front of Gus wearing only my briefs._

_“Sweetheart,” I say to you. “Shall I hold your gun while you take off your clothes?”_

_You look at me briefly, then hand me your gun and take off your shirt, boots, and trousers, and throw them into the side room. I roll my eyes at this nonchalance._

_“Now. You used both your hands to touch my husband, so both your hands are going to suffer. Do you want the right or the left first?” I ask._

_Gus is gaping at me. “What…”_

_“Right or left?” I repeat. “Come on, honey, I don’t have all night – I’m keen to get back to dancing…"_

_“What are you going to do? Look, I said I was sorry – I have money. I can give you money, alright? Lots of it – and I got a lovely bike…”_

_“You’re not answering the QUESTION!!!” I shout in his face._

_“Oh well… if you’re not going to talk…”_

_I take some dishcloths, stuff them into his mouth, then take a knife from your pocket._

_“We’ll start with the left one then, shall we?” I suggest, moving to his left side. “Tiger, would you be so kind?” You pull him upright, slam him against the stove, and move his hand to the burning hob._

_Gus starts thrashing most unbecomingly, so I stab his arm right behind the elbow. He screams, but it’s muffled by the dishcloths._

_“Don’t move your arm too much Gus, or your poor muscles are going to be all torn…” I advise, pushing on the knife, as you pull his hand towards the fire. Caught between the blade and the burner, he squirms, but you have him pinned quite effectively, and his hand moves inexorably towards the flames._

_It’s a shame I had to use the cloths – I’d have loved to hear his response, but alas. Still, as an improvised birthday treat, it’s very good. The burning flesh smells quite nice – I should see if there’s anything to eat in the shop before we go, I’m getting peckish._

_Gus is screaming constantly now, and his hand is mostly black. Time for the right one – the one that touched both your arse and your cock._

_You grab it, Gus trashes, but to no avail – I put the knife in the back of his arm again, and his right hand is moved to the burner. He screams into the cloths, cries, jerks as his hand blisters, scorches, finally starts weeping subcutaneous fat, which catches fire._

_It’s quite mesmerizing._

_“See Gus – now it’s a good thing you didn’t touch Sebastian with anything else, isn’t it? Imagine us having to do this to your cock?”_

_He doesn’t appear to hear much of what I say. His hand is burning prettily, but he seems more or less catatonic._

_Not as tough as he looks… most of them aren’t…_

_I remove the knife from his arm and use it to slit his throat. He collapses to the floor, gurgling a little, then lying still._

 

 

I watch the scene unfold as I do whenever I see you in action - with vigilant fascination.

Jesus Christ - I know how to damage people very well, but seeing you in action is like performance art - you're a sadist _par excellence_.

So when you turn to me from the now-still body on the floor with your eyes lit up like Christmas, I can't help but laugh low in my throat.

"I didn't even plan that gift - it just fell into your lap from the birthday gods," I say, grinning at you.

I sling my arm around your shoulder, and pull you to me for a hug. "Beautiful work, baby. If you hadn't ended him, I would have... _no one_ talks to you like that. Sexy little muffin, _Jesus_..."

I snigger into your hair, and then I realize we're almost naked, pressed against each other in a shop we've broken into, with a dead body on the floor.

We smile at each other smoulderingly. "Much as I would love a post-murder fuck, I _know_ you still want to dance... and I'm so horny for a certain vicious Kitten, you'd be a mess by the time I was done with you," I growl into your ear. "So why don't you call Eduardo about disposing of the remains of ol' Gus, and we'll head back and dance until you've had your fill. And then we'll go _home_... where I intend to mess you up _spectacularly_..." I give you my predatory smile, and it doesn't take long for us to start kissing hungrily. I pull back from you with a sly smile, and retrieve my clothes to get dressed. I have one more thing planned for you tonight, and I hope it will make my Kitten's eyes light up as much as the gift of unexpected murder.

 

 

_I am surprised - astonished - properly flabbergasted._

_Sebastian Moran not up for a fuck? Sebastian Moran - sorry, Moriarty - not up for a fuck after a *kill*?_

_"Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" I ask suspiciously. But you're probably right - we do want to dance some more, and postponing will make the final 'messing up' - now I wonder what you mean by that, Tiger... - all the more spectacular._

_"Wait -" I call as you grab your clothes. "You're covered in blood, my dear - poor Armand would have a heart attack."_

_I grab some more washcloths, wet them under the tap, and we clean each other up, get dressed. Mentioning Armand reminds me..._

_"Did you bring any cash?" I ask. You nod, hand me a significant wad of dollars. I put them in my pocket._

_When we are back in the club, I spot Armand, and have a quiet word with him. As I suspected, he's got good relations with the police around here, and would be happy to ensure that the death of the handsy biker doesn't raise much of an investigation. He accepts the wad of dollars without looking and gives me his word, which seems to be a big thing for him._

_That saves me having to ask Eduardo for yet another favour - and we *really* have to go see him in the coming week._

_I walk back to our booth, when -_

_that bass line -_

_I look at you, you grin impossibly wide, and descend the steps. We meet on the dance floor._

 

Oh, let's go!

 

Steve walks warily down the street

With the brim pulled way down low

 

 

No one inspires your rock star moves like Freddie Mercury...

you're stalking across the dance floor like the world is your stage, and it is, _it is_ , people are making way for you, clearing space for you to reign supreme.

 

_Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this?_

_Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?_

 

You're gesturing at the crowd grandly, and I'm beaming at you like a goddamn groupie. I'd better contribute to your show. I strut towards you, whip out some mad ballroom moves and pull you into my body hard, only to spin you out again.

 

_Another one bites the dust_

_Another one bites the dust_

_And another one gone, and another one gone_

_Another one bites the dust_

 

We're circling each other now - our movements are more predatory than before we disappeared with the American biker. If people can't tell by looking at you that you just now tortured and killed someone, then - they're bloody well blind.

 

_Hey, I'm gonna get you, too_

_Another one bites the dust_

 

I catch you in my arms, and dip you low before pulling you back up and thrusting against you. The heat between us is a live wire of sizzling aggression. Tonight between us is going to be an inferno...

 

 

_Ahhhh, *fuck*... a body doesn't get more alive than this... a man's blood staining one's pants, one's adoring and gorgeous husband in one's arms, a crowd to admire one's moves, and one of one's favourite songs pumping out of an excellent sound system..._

_The bass line stops, but clicking fingers take over -_

_oh my *god*._

_Here I thought I couldn't get higher._

 

_They're playing *my song*._

 

She keeps Moët et Chandon in her pretty cabinet

Let them eat cake, she says, just like Marie-Antoinette

 

 

Oh god, it's your song, _your song_... I throw back my head and laugh with delight.

God, I should send the DJ a thank-you bouquet for making your night...

You're just revving up your engine, as you strut your way across the dance floor. I beam and watch you. Holy fuck, Jim... I'm _so glad_ we came out tonight.

Oh right, I should be dancing too, and not just staring at you like a grinning idiot... I saunter over to you, and bow low to you before offering up my hand.

 

_Caviar and cigarettes_

_Well versed in etiquette_

_Extraordinarily nice_

 

Once again, I break out some fancy ballroom moves that I haven't used in years... but I'm so glad it's all coming back to me, because we're putting on quite a show, and _god_ , do you love a spectacle. I make sure to spin you out and release you for the chorus, because I'm sure you'll want to do that thing you do and shine like the magnificent supernova you are...

 

 

She's a Killer Queen

Gunpowder, gelatin

Dynamite with a laser beam

 

_I'm in the centre of the universe, I'm radiating dark light, I'm ten miles high, and everyone around is just here to worship me..._

_I move like I have the entire floor to my own, and I do, people make way for me; they're just a faceless mass, except for my golden warrior who shines at me._

 

Guaranteed to blow your mind...

Anytime

 

_Yes... I will blow your mind, anyone's mind, everyone's mind... I'm Moriarty, the Killer Queen..._

 

_Fuck, I'm high... Well, I would be - I was given a fucking *statue* today, had some great sex, a *good* kill, and the most magnificent husband in the world staring at me with eyes full of worship..._

 

_The song ends, but already Freddie's voice is providing the next treat - a triple Queen sandwich? Thank you, DJ... remind me to give you a good tip..._

 

Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time

I feel alive...

 

 

Seriously?? Oh god, _this DJ_... he's our new favourite human...

I move towards you as you move across the dance floor with all the confidence of a professional dancer and a rock star rolled into one...

I beckon you, and you fling yourself towards me.

 

_I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky_

_Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity_

 

I'm holding you in my arms, twirling us around the floor - then you wrap your legs around my waist, and we kiss as we circle slowly. I let you down, and you spin away from me, muscular arms up in the air.

 

_I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah_

_Two hundred degrees_

_That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit_

 

The other people on the dance floor are your admiring audience - they can't even begin to compete with you. I gaze out at them, and with my eyes I tell them, _worship... it's not every night a star comes down from the sky to walk among you..._ and then I return to my prince, my dark lord, to celebrate his birthday like we never have before.

 

 

_I’m not even touching the earth any more, I’m floating, the ether my dance floor. When I want you you’re there, like always exactly anticipating where I’ll be and what I’ll need. The same magic which has been keeping us alive for years, and equally pleasant._

_People are watching us, smiling, pointing._

_We dance our way through a few more songs, when I decide it’s time for a drink - dancing makes thirsty..._

_We head back to our booth, both grinning like loons. I throw back the rest of my rum and coke, and ask you to get another one, and a glass of water - if I knock back that next one like this you may have to carry me home, and I don’t want that - you’ve been hinting at a final birthday treat and I don’t want to miss it..._

_“Oh, try not to seduce anyone this time, Tiger...”_

 

 

I laugh. "Well, there's only so many bodies we should rack up in one night, honey... even if it is your birthday..." I wink at you and head for the bar, feeling your eyes on my arse.

Which of course means strutting my way to the bar. Billy Idol's Rebel Yell is playing, and there are more sets of eyes on me. As I wait for the bartender, I sense someone approaching, and sigh.

"Keep walking," I say, with a feral smile. The man practically falls over himself moving back from me.

I give my order, and wait for our drinks.

I look back at you, leaning against the bar.

 

_I walked the world with you, babe_

_A thousand miles with you_

_I dried your tears of pain, babe_

_A million times for you_

 

_I'd sell my soul for you, babe_

_For money to burn with you_

_I'd give you all, and have none, babe_

_Just to, just to, just to, to have you here by me_

 

I can practically feel a line of fire between us.

Drinks are slid towards my back and I toss some pesos onto the bar. I pick up the glasses and head back to you as the chorus plays.

 

_In the midnight hour, babe- more, more, more_

_With a rebel yell, more, more, more_

 

I mount the steps. I place the glass in your hand, and hold up my own. We clink glasses and drink.

I open my mouth to speak and then I hear a recorded feminine laugh and then Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran is playing.

I sip my whisky and gaze at you, caressing your hair. "You want to take this celebration home soon, darling?" I stand up. "But before we do... maybe I'll dance to this one for you?"

I kiss your hand, then stalk across the dance floor.

 

_In touch with the ground_

_I'm on the hunt down I'm after you_

_Smell like I sound I'm lost in a crowd_

_And I'm hungry like the wolf_

 

I find a spot in your eyeline, and start to move my hips.

It's been forever since I danced... I know it's more your thing than mine, but I didn't realize... I'd missed it, too.

 

_Straddle the line in discord and rhyme_

_I'm on the hunt down I'm after you_

_Mouth is alive with juices like wine_

_And I'm hungry like the wolf_

 

I'm staring at you from across the dance floor, as I raise my arms and sway my hips in that loose, cocky way that has always been able to attract anyone I wanted in an instant. The one I want is staring at me from the dais. I'm not sure if you're going to join me or just let me dance for you. I let go of thought and just melt into the music. I do the move that you have dubbed my 'slutty shoulder roll', then I throw my head back, and laugh.

 

 

_Ooooh, *fierce* Tiger... this corpse wannabe doesn't even get a word in. Good boy, Seb... There is only so much murder one wants to get involved in on one's birthday..._

_And then I get my drink and my own private show._

_And what a show it is. A loose, confident, cocky, slutty Tiger is a sight to behold... and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Half the dance floor is staring at you, but by now most of the guys in here have got the message. And also - interfering with this dance would be disrupting art and beauty, and not even drunk men would be so uncouth. I see Armand standing at the railing around the dance floor, looking enchanted - and who wouldn't._

_You are far and away the hottest, most sensual, most beautiful man this club has ever seen, and you're bestowing your luscious body's moves on us like a gift from the gods. I say us - the rest of the people watching you are periphery. Scenery. Your show is for one man and one man only, and he's spellbound and almost painfully in love._

_When the song ends and you stride your way towards me, a path clears for you. As you walk up the steps, several dozen eyes check out your arse. But when you are in our booth, it's like a curtain is pulled over us, and people go back to their own lives, having been enriched by the presence of this demigod in their midst._

_You bend over the seat and kiss me, deeply, richly, promisingly. An almost audible *woosh* reverberates through me as my entire body ignites with lust._

_"Home. Now." I breathe._

 


	4. Like a Fucking Greek Tragedy

I grin at you. "Thought you'd never ask..."

I send a quick text to the driver, then grab your hand and escort you down the stairs, past the velvet rope. I sling an arm over your shoulder, your arm slides around my waist, and we strut across the club like the hottest guys anyone's ever seen. Because odds are...

I smile down at you. "Did you see the looks on people's faces? It certainly _appears_ that everyone wants to fuck us... whether they get their rocks off with someone, or wank by themselves, I suspect several people will be thinking of us tonight." I give a jaunty wave to Armand, who looks like he's going to fall onto the floor.

"But I will only be thinking of the hottest man I've ever met... whose marks of ownership are carved into me, front and back," I whisper into your ear. You look up at me with gleaming eyes. The bouncer opens the door for us, and wishes us a good night.

"Oh, it will be..." I purr.

You don't ask, but I know you're dying to find out.

"Just a little while longer, baby..." I murmur. The car pulls up in front of us, and we fall into the backseat, kissing.

We grope each other, dirty talk, pass the flask back and forth. Both of us are very aware we should wait until we get home.

With no traffic at this hour, we're there in 25 minutes.

You're pulling at my clothes as I lock the door.

"Not yet, Kitten..." I coo. "Why don't you go sit outside on the patio and wait for me? I'll bring out drinks, and we'll have a proper birthday celebration..."

You pout, but head towards the back door. I have a feeling you're more than happy to go sit and look at your statue in the moonlight.

I go upstairs, and with a wide grin, I begin my preparations.

 

 

_Why don't I go sit outside? Well, *why* don't I go sit outside?! Could it be because I have been dancing, drinking, kissing, and murdering with the hottest man on the fucking *planet* for *hours* now, and I haven't had an orgasm in for*ever*!? And now said hottest man just sends me to sit on the fucking *patio* to have a nice quiet drink and look at the stars?! It's my *birthday*... well, it isn't any more, technically, but when did that ever stop me._

_Still, your surprises so far have been *perfect*, so I'm not going to thwart whatever you have planned that makes you grin so widely._

_Like a good Kitten, I go outside and sit in a chair, look out over the water, at my statue, dark and imposing in the night._

_After thirty seconds, I start to fidget. I'm not good at sitting still, Tiger. You better get out here quick._

 

 

I get dressed as quickly as possible. I can just imagine how impatient you'll get if you have to wait for too long... I laugh. Oh, WHO am I kidding? You're already impatient, and probably cursing me out.

Well, Kitten... this will be worth the wait. I think.

I check my phone and see that Señor Álvarez has made the preparations I requested.

I look at myself in the mirror, and laugh in shock. Yep. I'm really doing this. The things I do for you, Kitten...

I head out to the balcony, look down at the beach, and chuckle to myself. Then I grab the rucksack of supplies, and begin my climb to the roof.

Moments later, I've secured the harness and done a safety check.

I'm good to go - and clearly I'm certifiable. But if this works...

I stare down at the beach, and pull the pin on the smoke grenade.

Throw it to the ground, and watch as black smoke pours out, and lifts up over the villa.

I use the rigged remote. Floodlights flare on. The unmistakable first notes of Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones begin to play. Loudly.

I peek down to the beach. You're now standing up and looking up at the house in shock.

I grin madly. As the percussion begins, I pull the pin on another smoke grenade, and throw myself off the roof - where I begin to rappel down the side of the villa.

Wearing what for all the world looks exactly like a Black Ops SAS uniform. Right down to the gas mask.

In moments, I'm on the ground - the smoke is still pouring out, and I'm obstructed from your view. I step out through the smoke as if through a wall.

Then I slowly strut towards you.

 

_I look inside myself and see my heart is black_

_I see my red door I must have it painted black_

_Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts_

_It's not easy facin' up, when your whole world is black_

 

I move towards you. The look in your eyes is indescribable - like you've just tumbled into a world that you only dreamed existed.

 

I haul you up against my body, and carry you across the patio. Then I lower you to the ground, before pushing you against a post - the post that I was tied to, earlier in our honeymoon.

 

_No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue_

_I could not foresee this thing happening to you_

_If I look hard enough into the settin' sun_

_My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes_

 

Slowly I begin to remove your blazer and shirt. I throw them onto a chair. I help you step out of your shoes, and then pull off your trousers. When you're wearing only your boxer briefs, I secure you to the post, arms loosely at your sides. I take a small tub of black greasepaint, and use the applicator to rub black over your face, arms and chest.

 

Then I step back to admire my work. You look like a creature from a dark faerie tale... your eyes gleam at me, and my breath catches in my throat. Get it together, Seb...

By this time, the song winds to a close, and Beat the Devil's Tattoo by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club begins.

 

Showtime.

 

I slowly remove my Kevlar vest, hold it to the side, and let it fall to the ground with a loud _thump_.

Then I do the same with my jacket.

And then a tight black t-shirt with a tiger image, which is definitely not part of the uniform but I took creative liberties.

Now I'm bare-chested, wearing black trousers, army boots... a gun holster, harness, knee pads, and gas mask.

 

Slowly I begin to sway to the music as I cover my chest and arms in black paint. When I'm done, I light two smoke grenades, and hold my arms out wide as red smoke pours out, and my hips grind to the beat.

 

_You cannot fight it, all the world denies it_

_Open up your eyelids, let your demons run_

_I thread the needle through, you beat the devil tattoo_

_I thread the needle through, you beat the devil's tattoo_

 

 

_What the *fuck*!? A smoke grenade - are we under attack?!_

_No - it came from the roof - you're on the *roof*!? What the fuck are you -_

_Floodlights come on, lighting up the villa. The Rolling Stones start playing._

_Sebastian Moriarty, what the actual fuck..._

_My goodness. I thought *I* was the overly dramatic one in this relationship. Well done, Tiger. You've out-spectacled the Drama Queen._

_A shape is visible on the roof. You - unmistakably you - but like I've only ever seen you in pictures._

_And - I have to admit it - drooled over in pictures. There is something about the full SAS outfit, the blackness of it, the knowledge of what one needs to do, to be, to get it, that's... undeniably erotic. The raw physical power and prowess that you ooze, rappelling down the side of the house - fuck._

_It's so easy to forget, when you live with someone day to day, who they are. They just become a fixture in your life. But this is who I fell for - this being of pure power, lethality, precision, grace, voraciousness - it's why I called you Tiger._

_*Fuck*. I married this man. I fucking *own* this fierce predator, probably the most lethal man on the planet._

_As if on cue, you appear out of the smoke, stalking like the hero of a big-budget action film. And you burst out of the screen, pick me up, push me against the post which the cleaners keep stubbornly hanging the plant off, and start stripping me, looking eerily otherworldly behind your mask. It feels uncannily, incredibly vulnerable, being nearly naked with a man who is in full combat gear. And then you - paint me black. Oh ha ha. Very funny, Tiger... I can't help but smirk though._

_And you step back, and look at me... the Predator in the flesh, and I'm the prey - painted and basted for your delight - very much not our usual dynamic, and all the more delectable for it..._

_And then you start stripping. It's an entirely different experience from seeing you strip off your biker gear. You're not dancing. You're not enticing. You are just removing bit by bit of your armour, becoming - human, piece by piece, while still remaining alien in your mask._

_Your chest is revealed, with the muscles, the scars, my initials, and I long to hold it, but I don't move, as you start painting yourself and pull off a performance worthy of Gene Simmons, pouring smoke while you sway to the music._

_I am transfixed, enchanted, spellbound. You are a creature from film, from fantasy, from a stage, come to life, standing right in front of me, yet separated by the fourth wall. I couldn't touch you – you are the performer and I am the audience, and this glamour can not be broken by me._

_I stare at you, not wanting to miss a beat, waiting for what will come next._

 

 

As the chorus repeats hypnotically, I sharply throw the two smoke grenades in opposite directions. There's red smoke on the property, but a clear path between us.

I remove the harness from my pelvis, and throw it to the side.

Then I walk slowly away. At a distance, I stop and look up at the sky.

When the song finishes, there's a pause and then a new one begins.

 

_Well, I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind_

_I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time_

_But I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon_

_I feel there's nothing I can do, yeah_

 

I pull off my gas mask and throw it towards the beach.

Still facing away, I turn my head to look back at you.

Then I turn and stalk towards you. My face is streaked with black paint like yours.

My hair must be a wreck from being under the hood of the mask.

I suspect I look like I crawled through hell to get here. (Didn't you, Seb?)

 

I move towards you, and place a hand over your head. I lean in close to you, and breathe you in.

Then I move my hand to your cheek, and slowly let it trail down your chest and abdomen.

 

_I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon_

_After all I knew, it had to be something to do with you_

_I really don't mind what happens now and then_

_As long as you'll be my friend at the end_

 

I raise an eyebrow at you, and my fingers move to the waistband of my trousers.

 

 

_Wow. You should have been a performer. You're even better than I am. Next time we go for a kill, *you* should do the dramatic showdown and I'll snipe from the shadows._

_The gas mask goes - thank god, it was a bit disconcerting. You look at me - your face blackened and streaked. I have seen you like *this* before, but it was a while ago - Before, which I don't like thinking too much about._

_And there you are, stepping through the fourth wall, touching me, breathing me in, stroking my body. I am so acutely aware of your fingers; I can feel the trail they leave glowing on my skin._

_The world is obscured by the smoke, there is just you and me, nothing else - nothing that matters anyway..._

_You look at me, raise a questioning eyebrow, reach for your trousers._

_Do you need to *ask*, Sebastian?! I don't have a mirror, but I'm pretty clear on how I look - my face flushed under the black paint, my cock painfully straining against my pants, my eyes large and dark, my mouth open -_

_I am in *awe*, I am in love, I am wonderstruck - you are -_

_*everything* -_

_You are everything I never deserved and could ever dream of wishing for - and more -_

_\- and you are *sex personified* -_

_I don't care if you fuck me, I fuck you, but *something* needs to happen; you, Ares mortalized, need to *significantly* touch me, or I will explode..._

 

 

You respond to my questioning look with a look that screams ' _are you fucking kidding me?_ ' and ' _get your kit off or I will end you!_ ' I struggle for a moment not to break character. I unfasten my trousers, but leave them on.

Your head falls back against the post, and a ghost of a smile dances on my lips as I crouch down.

I kneel on the floor, looking up at you. I slowly begin to divest myself of equipment.

 

_If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?_

_If I'm alive and well, will you be there and holding my hand?_

_I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might_

_Kryptonite_

 

The gun is removed, and then the holster.

 

_You called me strong, you called me weak_

_But still your secrets I will keep_

_You took for granted all the times, I never let you down_

 

Knife. Knee pads. Utility belt.

All dropped to the ground.

I unlace my boots before standing and kicking them off, and pulling off my socks.

 

_You stumbled in and bumped your head_

_If not for me then you'd be dead_

_I picked you up and put you back on solid ground_

 

Once again I advance towards you.

I move my body against yours, feeling the slide of the greasepaint, the slickness of our bodies against each other.

I look down at you, staring intently.

 

_If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?_

_If I'm alive and well, will you be there and holding my hand?_

_I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might_

_Kryptonite_

 

I peel down your pants, and throw them aside. I gaze down at your naked body, your hard cock - my eyes smoulder.

I pull off my trousers. I'm wearing camo briefs. You look like you're going to set the patio ablaze with the fire in your eyes.

The chorus repeats.

I peel off my briefs, and I stand before you naked.

I take the knife from the ground, and use it to cut through the ropes tying you to the post.

Then I grab a towel and lube from a lounge chair, pick you up, and carry you to the beach.

 

I put you down on your feet, still gazing at you as I spread out the towel on the sand.

Then I sit, pulling you down with me.

Pushing you onto your back, I cover your body with mine.

And I finally realize the last song I selected was an ending of sorts, and therefore my gift to you - putting our sordid past behind us, even though there's still one more conversation we need to have before we can be truly free.

My original plans for after my performance are forgotten... I stare down at you, almost in shock. As if I’ve inadvertently removed armour from both of us...

"What do you want?" I ask urgently. Our bodies slide against each other, and our cocks press together, making us groan.

"Tell me what you _want_..." My fervent whisper is a plea, a prayer...

I kiss you like it's our last night on earth.

 

 

_Oh god, oh god - this song - the lyrics - why, Sebastian?_

 

You took for granted all the times I never let you down

 

_I did... of course I did, you were always there... so brilliant, I never needed to doubt..._

 

If not for me then you'd be dead

 

_So many times..._

 

I picked you up and put you back on solid ground

 

_Sebastian... my Tiger..._

_I want you. I want to fuck you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you in my arms and promise you *forever* and *never again* and thank you and worship you..._

 

I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might

 

_Yes, you are superhuman... You'd have to be, to do what you did - what you are still doing, every day -_

_My throat constricts; I'm on the verge of bloody tears whilst also excessively horny - quite a unique and disconcerting experience._

_Your eyes as you lift me and carry me to the beach are shining as well - you chose that song with a purpose; you're thinking the same -_

_What do I *want*?_

_"I want everything - I want you, Sebastian - I want to show you how much I love you, admire you; how sorry I am for never telling you before; how incredibly horny you make me –_

_it's too much? I am feeling so fucking much and I don't know if I want to come or cry -"_

 

 

"No tears, angel..." I say wiping your eyes. "That wasn't my intention..."

I swipe at mine as well. "Shit... sorry, baby. I didn't mean -"

I blink at you, see tears refilling in your eyes, and I sniffle.

"I totally didn't mean to make you sad; I was trying to say... I'm yours. Fully yours. I'm your weapon, I'm your love, I want to be your everything... Jim..."

I kiss your face and neck.

"I can think of something that will help us forget to be sad..." I murmur, and my hand closes over your cock. "It's your birthday, Jim... tell me what you want," I whisper, and begin to stroke you. "Tell me where you want me, Kitten..."

 

 

_Yes - you're right, Sebastian. I love you so *fucking* much that I want to cry, but right now, right here, we need to fuck - fucking is the antithesis of death; we need to celebrate life after my death..._

_And you deserve an amazing reward for your performance - showing me your killer side, which is not only hot as fuck, but it's also reminding me of who you *are* - the second most dangerous man in - well, they say London... - reminding me that you are *still* that man, that soldier, that Tiger._

_And then - stripping off all your weapons, laying them at my feet, like surrendering warriors of old... all your power and strength is for me..._

_And stripping off your armour, until you are naked in front of me, vulnerable in front of me - even when I am naked and tied down, you are powerless to resist me._

_It's like a fucking Greek tragedy, so *beautiful* and meaningful, and fucking hell Tiger, you are Eton's most intelligent graduate in decades - if only they knew..._

_I feel like I want you in every way possible, but I am so in awe and love -_

_"I want you to make love to me, Tiger. And - pretty soon I think I'll want you to fuck me. I want to look into your eyes and go all gooey at how beautiful and strong and lovely you are." I pull you to me and kiss you._

 

 

"I can do that, Kitten," I mutter and push your legs to your chest. "You'll have all of it... _all of me_..."

Poised between your legs, I quickly lube myself and you. The head of my cock breaches your entrance, and I pause to look at you.

You're watching me intently, your breathing ragged. Your face is streaked in black, as is mine... this has become _so surreal_. I flash a grin at you, and you smile back at me fiercely.

"I love you," I breathe and push in farther.

Your eyes close, your head falls back, and you breathe in sharply. "Fuck... I love you too, Sebastian... so much..."

I continue my advance, pausing to allow you to adjust for me, and then surging forward again.

When I'm lodged in you deeply, I stare down at you.

"Oh god... _Jim_... this is real, isn't it?" I whisper.

"Yeah, baby... it's real..." you whisper back.

I close my eyes. "Not a dream..." I murmur. "You're really mine?"

"Open your eyes, Sebastian... I really am."

I feel your hand on my face. The impact of your gaze hits me like light flooding into darkness.

The darkness was inside me... and now there is you.

I don't know what to do with this... I really don't, Jim...

But I know that it's your birthday, and we're in love, and I'm inside you, and you're urging me forward, and I have to move, and I have to kiss you, and when you kiss me back it feels like a dream, but it's not, it's not a dream, and I have you, I really do... I'm whispering to you over and over that I love you, and you're repeating it back to me, and each time feels more real, like we're dissipating some curse, some dark cloud that we've been living under, a dark cloud that lived inside of us.

I breathe in deeply, and stroke your face.

"Is this what you had in mind?" I ask, rocking against your hips. "Have I made you feel gooey yet, Kitten?"

 

 

_"I'm not a Kitten... I am a pile of jelly..." I reply._

_There we go, criminal mastermind, most dangerous man in London, psychopath... what do they all know... there is only one man who knows me, and he is inside me, and on top of me, and he is also the only man who could *dream* of doing so, and here on the beach, on the date of my birth, we are performing a ritual as old as mankind, celebrating life, banishing death further and further with every whispered declaration of love, with every thrust, with every kiss and stroke and moan..._

_You are mine and I am yours and I am your Mine and you are my Yours and we are each other's Whatever, unlawfully wedded in a faraway city on a faraway continent, and we are nowhere near there yet, wherever there may be, but we are getting closer and closer to there, and further and further away from the awfulness that I was, that you lived..._

_I know we have one more talk to have, but an important part of the healing is now, is here, is this, both drunk with love, staring at each other, kissing, whispering, loving, fucking, and the stars dance above us, and the waves roll beside us, and the earth moves underneath us, and the wind sings its songs in the palm trees, and we are at the centre of the universe, two men of death, united in life by love._

 

 

It is potent between us, this love and longing to merge... but it’s animalistic, too. And we’re far too attuned to our primal selves to stay romantic and dreamy for very long... and we are lost to it, the pulse, the rhythm of lust, desire, _fuck_... and god, it’s so good, feeling myself drive into you as the sea pounds against the rocks and swarms across the sand.

I’m rocking against you, and you’re moaning loudly as I hit the sweet spot that makes you lose all sense of yourself and just surrender to me... You own me, I am yours, but there is satisfaction in doing this, too - making you cry out and throw your head back and _arch_ for me... “Sweet fucking _Christ_ , you’re beautiful..” I growl. “You get me so _fucking hot_...”

I stroke your cock possessively. There’s no way I’m going to last much longer, not as you’re shivering against me and staring at up at me with those otherworldly pools of darkness that are your eyes.

“Aw, baby... why do you look at me like that?” I whisper and it’s almost a plea. “I’m fucking powerless against you, you know that... I’m your slave, and I always will be...” Groaning, I find my body moving faster and frantically against you, and inside you. I lean forward and kiss you with urgency, twisting my hands in your hair. “Oh god... come with me... come with me, _please_...”

 

 

_There is something so elemental about this, about us lying here in the sand on the edge of land and sea... fucking, like people have been fucking since the dawn of time, feeling the heat, the intense sensation all through our bodies, comparable with nothing..._

_And you tell me you're my slave, and always will be, and I love you so much tears come to my eyes, or maybe they've been there all along, I don't know, and you touch me, stroke me, and beg me to come with you, as you are inside me, around me, on top of me, in my mouth, in my hair, everywhere..._

_Sebastian..._

_my Sebastian..._

_I feel your heat spreading inside me at the same time as I feel my pleasure explode into your hand, and it's *so fucking intense*, after the night of buildup we had, I feel the beach tilt, like we're going to fall off, fall off the edge of the world, and that's fine, as long as we're together..._

_I buck and spasm, groan and cry out your name, dig in my nails and hear you roar your pleasure over our beach -_

_so -_

_fucking -_

_intense –_

 

 

Oh god... you're coming as I do, and it's so fucking hard to keep moving my hand as I'm coming undone, but the _sound_ of you, the _feel_ of you... crying my name out, spasming against me... Jesus Christ, you're so _fucking_ beautiful...

I'm off in the darkness somewhere, mindless with bliss...

… eventually I become aware of the sound of the ocean and the breeze rustling palm leaves...

I'm lying on you, panting and sweaty.

I don't want to move... but this is going to get uncomfortable for you, positioned as you are. I pull out of you, wincing,

"My fucking beautiful man..." I murmur, "I'm so comfortable here, but we should get in the house before we fall asleep. You're going to get cold. And you'll probably want a shower, because a certain dramatic idiot decided to take Paint It Black literally?" I grin at you.

I stroke your face. "Happy birthday, baby... did you enjoy your evening?"

 

 

_I’m one with the universe, I’m a child of Nature, my body the land, my blood the sea, my breath the wind, my soul one with the stars..._

_Yeah. And I mean it. See what you’re doing Tiger? Making a fucking hippy out of James Moriarty._

_I’m love, I’m pleasure, I’m divine consciousness; I’m going to have to stop this nonsense soon, but it’s such a good trip..._

_You are the voice of reason pulling me down from cloud nine, reminding me that I’m getting a bit cold and there’s a pebble pressing into my back._

_“It was pure perfection, my Tiger... like you..._

_The whole *day* was... if I’d been asked to design the perfect birthday, I couldn’t have thought up anything half as amazing. Except it would definitely have featured you... and lots of sex... and possibly dancing and murdering. Preferably an annoying American._

_... yeah, it might have been quite similar... but the statue - that fucking statue - no, you outdid my wildest fantasies there, Sebastian.”_

_I stretch out lazily. “Could I possibly persuade my favourite dramatic idiot to carry me to the shower?”_

 

 

As I listen to you talk about your birthday highlights, I can't help but beam. I _did it_. I gave you a wonderful birthday, and you _enjoyed_ it. All those years of disappointment and dejection melt away. I sag with relief against you.

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you had such a good day... and that you love your statue. It really is epic..." I kiss your lips. "I had an amazing time, especially going dancing. I can't wait to go out again... with or without corpses. But it was _so perfect_ to have an annoying American to murder for your birthday. He should have been wearing a bow." I chuckle, and sit up.

"Yes, this dramatic idiot would be happy to carry the King to his shower... outdoor shower is probably best. This paint is going to leave a mess..."

I scoop you up, and you're limp in my arms, looking content as I carry you across the beach.

In the shower we stand under warm, soothing water, kissing... I wash us both, rubbing off the patches of black paint. We watch as black water runs down our bodies, swirling down the drain. It feels significant. Another layer from the past came off today - sorrow and fear.

As I towel us off, I carry you to the house against your weak protests. (Oh, please... you love it.) After locking up, I carry you upstairs. You look at me questioningly as I open the doors. I gesture with my chin, and your eyes swing to the balcony - where a state-of-the-art telescope has been set up. With a bow.

"The sky is so clear here... I thought you'd like to look at the stars. This is a powerful telescope for its size, but if you want to _really_ look at the stars to study them... we could have a small observatory built on the property?" I observe your face as you study the telescope, and then put you down.

 

 

_I gaze at the telescope... that's - oh god Tiger - you remember how much I love astrophysics - oh god -_

_I move to the apparatus, in awe. It's huge - a Meade - refractor - oh god it's magnificent -_

_I turn back to you, see you look at me hopefully - I beam a huge smile at you, then throw myself into your arms. "Tiger! You are the *best* husband I've ever had! This is *amazing*!"_

_I look through the eyepiece, see nothing, of course - there's a lens cover - I take it off, still see nothing - oh god I'm going to have to read a *manual*, aren't I - I hate reading manuals, I'm a bloody genius, I shouldn't need them -_

_I pull back, look at the knobs, levers, gauges, elements - no, I'm not going to work it out just by looking. This is a complex bit of machinery - of course, you wouldn't get me a My First Telescope Kit -_

_I look at you, you're grinning, hold out the manual, folded open to the 'quick start' section. Bless you, Tiger..._

_Half an hour later I'm talking you through the Pleiades and you're doing a very convincing impression of an interested husband._

 

 

I feel chuffed at your delight as you start showing me constellations, but when you launch into string cosmology, I'm pretty much just smiling and nodding. I barely retain a word you say, but I stare at you, transfixed. My adorable murderous genius...

 

"Babe... not that I'm not enjoying hearing you talk about the problems with eleven-dimensional theory, but... it's been a long day. Can we put a pin in it until tomorrow? The telescope will still be here. The stars will still be here. The 11th dimension will still be problematic..."

 

You beam at me.

 

"Yes, I retained some of it," I grin. "But that's all that's going into my brain tonight. Come on, baby... cover it up, and let's go in... it was such a great evening, but all I want now is to be lying in bed with you..."

 

You cover up the telescope carefully under the thick cloak cover in the corner of the balcony, fussing to make sure it's tucked away.

 

"It's fine, Jim..." I croon, and pull you in through the door. "Come with me, now..."

 

I take you by the hand, and we return to the spare bedroom, where we quickly get under the covers. I scoop you onto my chest, and gaze at you. "OK, our evening was full of dancing, drinking, show-off Tigers rappelling down the wall and stripping... oh yes, and murdering the presumptuous American... but the rest of it?" I look at you in amazement. "I think we had our quiet fucking day, Jim..."

 

 

_... alright. I guess that M theory can wait until tomorrow. Or - well._

_I love you, and you are quite smart for a normal person, but I fear I may have lost you at some point there. But you got *some* of it, which is way more than one could expect from most people._

_Heh. *My* husband. Hot, fit, *and* a brain._

_I make sure my precious can't be hurt by any anomalous hailstorms, falling roof tiles, or swallows dropping coconuts, and follow you inside._

 

_Our quiet fucking day?_

_Well, it was a harmonious day... and a relaxing day... and there was some light murder, but it wasn't disruptive at all..._

_"I - do believe you're right, Tiger." I smile at you._

_"Which goes to show that if you keep me supplied with incredible presents, exquisite food, great sex, and wonderful entertainment, nothing can go wrong!" I beam at you._

 

 

I chuckle as I look up at you. "Oh, is that all it takes? Who knew quiet fucking days would take so much planning and... wait _just_ a minute, Kitten. Everything else was incredible, exquisite, and wonderful... and the sex was just great?" I wave aside your protests. "Obviously I was so distracted by your birthday plans, I came up short... I'm going to have to make this up to you tomorrow, darling. I'm so, _so_ sorry..." I smack your delectable bottom hard, making you shriek.

"And I forgot a spanking for the birthday boy! Where was my head?" I swat your rump again, grinning.

 

 

_“You rarely come up *short*, Tiger...” I retort, before a third smack lands._

_“Tiger! Stop that this instant!” A fourth one makes me squeal. “That’s an order, soldier!” Five. “Sebastian!!! Who gave you permission to disobey orders?!” Six. I squeal manly, dive off the bed, roll over, hop upright. You follow, stalking me like only a true Tiger can._

 

 

Each smack just makes my smile grow bigger. Especially at your reactions. The most dangerous man in London is naked, achingly beautiful, and shrieking at me... and now diving off the bed to get away from my palm. I'm up and moving towards you before I even realize what I'm doing. Oh, the predatory response is alive and well...

"Come on, baby..." I purr as I approach. "Just thirty-one more... and one to grow on."

I look down at your cock and grin.

 

 

_"You can fuck right off, Mor...iarty," I reply, make a dash for the patio doors, but you're too fucking fast. Old man or not, I don't stand a chance against you... which is hot normally, but now I'm squeaking most unseemly as you're smacking my bottom. I grasp around for something of you I can reach, and manage to get hold of your hair and pull it, but you drop me and I'm forced to let go, and then you grab me again and throw me onto the bed, diving on top of me and smacking my arse again and again, with me squealing and writhing without success._

_"Se*bas*tian! I'm *so* going to remember this for your birthday! Hell hath no fury!"_

 

 

I chuckle as I smack you soundly. "Oh, _no_... you're going to apply corporal punishment on my birthday? Whatever will I do?"

Amidst threats and histrionics, I manage to get to thirty before you wriggle free again. I sigh theatrically as you retreat across the room. "Just eight more, Kitten..." I wheedle. "Let me at that beautiful arse of yours..." Which is delightfully pink now, and I so want to smack it some more...

 

 

_"You would smack a kitten?! You cruel and depraved man! I've killed people for less, you know!"_

_Now that the acute pain of the smacks is gone, the glow is actually very pleasant. Hmm..._

_"Hold!" I hold my hand up imperiously, and you do, indeed, hold. I should have thought of that earlier._

_"You will get your remaining eight... on one condition."_

_You look at me, suspiciously. Honestly Tiger? *Suspicion*?? What did I ever do to deserve that?_

_"You'll give me another 38 in the morning, and then I get to fuck you while you dig_ _your fingers into my glowing arse cheeks. What say you?"_

 

 

I'm sauntering towards you with a feral grin when you hold up your hand. Well. There's only so much a Tiger can rebel against his Kitten.

A Kitten who appears to be up to something... but what?

I look at you, perplexed. But that sounds delicious... what do you have up your sleeve? And do I care? I'll still get to spank your arse and get fucked by you. Win-win.

"You have yourself a deal, darling... and I'm looking forward to your morning smacking... and everything that follows." I grin, and extend a hand out to you.

 

 

_You look puzzled - what, a kitten can’t change his mind? *Damn it* - you got me doing it now. I’m not a kitten. I’m a... serpent, or spider, or something deadly._

_And well - I quite enjoy being spanked by you. You’re big and rugged and there’s something very sexy about being manhandled and smacked by your large hands. And the afterglow is... hmmm._

_I walk over to where you are, nudge you to sit on the bed, then lower myself onto your lap._

 

 

You walk back to the bed with a pleased smile on your face. The next thing I know, I'm sitting down with a lapful of Kitten.

"Hey, baby... you're back!" I grin down at you, and nuzzle your neck. "I missed you... _and_ your sweet arse..."

 

 

_"What kind of sniper are you..." I quip hilariously, then move my right leg over and drape myself over your lap, presenting said arse up for your punishing hand. "Go on then... eight more to come."_

 

 

I caress your arse, admiring it. It's gorgeous, rosy pink, and _mine_... there's something about you on my lap, waiting to be spanked... it's even better than sneaking in as many smacks as I can.

"Eight more it is, honey..."

My hand comes down hard against your luscious bottom.

Once again, I caress the cheeks, admiring your beautiful unblemished skin.

_Smack_

"You have the most gorgeous arse I've ever seen..." I say roughly. "I am so going to enjoy making it glow tomorrow..."

_Smack_

 

 

_Hmmm... this does feel good... definitely not something I’d ever have thought of indulging in - the mere thought - but with our... more relaxed association now, it seems quite natural, and well, there’s just something so hot about lying over your strong legs and feel your hard hand land on my backside - pain, but not a lot, and then that pleasant glow that spreads through my abdomen... mmmm Tiger... we keep finding new treats._

 

 

The rest of the sharp slaps pass by quickly with me whispering how beautiful you are... how much I'm going to enjoy administering more smacks tomorrow on your sore bottom... won't that be lovely? I chuckle and fondle your arse, then lift you back into my lap.

"A little sore, gorgeous?" I murmur, and seek out your lips for the last of the birthday kisses... even though technically we're in the wee hours of the next day by now.

When we break off the kiss, we gaze into each other's eyes, and then crawl under the covers. Entangled in each other, there's more kissing and sleepy murmuring.

"Night, my dark angel..." I whisper, hating to have to say goodbye. I keep my eyes open for as long as I possibly can, and when my eyelids droop, I try to hold on to the sound of your breathing, and the feeling of your warm skin against mine. "I love you..." I mumble, as I tumble into darkness.

 

 

_You’re so sweet... so incredibly sweet... this was not just the best birthday of my life, this was the best birthday I could have wished for - better than even I could have imagined. And you know what Tiger? Even if you hadn’t given me any gifts at all, it would still have been the best birthday, because you are here._

_You, Sebastian Patrick Moriarty né Moran. You are everything I’ve ever needed, everything I’ve ever wanted, the only person I’ve ever loved except my mother and brother. You broke through - everything - my psychopathy, my anger, my obsessions, my distance, even my death. You beat it all, Sebastian, my soldier, my assassin, the man who can kill anyone without breaking a sweat, use anything as a weapon; and in the end, your greatest weapon was love. You kept on loving me through all adversity, though I nearly fucking killed you, though you thought I killed myself..._

_... and here we are._

_And I’m so fucking happy I can’t speak, I can’t even cry. I can only lie here and feel your presence, your body, your warmth, your love - it’s almost a palpable energy that just flows between us._

_Sebastian, you are a miracle. And I have no idea how I’m ever going to repay you, but it’s your birthday in a few weeks and I’m going to try really fucking hard._

 


	5. Truth and Consequence

I feel a warm body pressed against mine as I slowly drift back into consciousness.

I'm spooning you, and sunlight is spilling into the room around the edges of the blinds.

I want to see you, but I should let you sleep. I should just let you sleep...

Yesterday was so amazing...

You're so beautiful...

I need to see you...

I gather you against me, and nuzzle the nape of your neck.

"Jim..." I whisper into your sweet skin. "Come back to me..."

 

 

_Back to you? But I did come back to you - didn’t I? Wait - that wasn’t all a dream, was it?!_

_I open my eyes, turn my head, see a golden Tiger in the Mexican morning light - thank fuck for that._

_I stretch, yawn. “Morning, love of my life..._

_Do you have a pressing reason for waking me, or did you decide your life wasn’t dangerous enough?”_

 

 

Still half-asleep, I laugh and snort at the same time.

"I just missed you, baby..." I press a damp kiss in between your shoulder blades.

"And you know me... Given the choice, I've always walked on the wild side of life..." I say in a husky voice, roll you onto your back and pin you down.

 

 

_Yes, you *are* living on the edge... am I ok with waking up yet?_

_I look into those huge blue eyes, shining with love... god, yes. Any time._

_But- “I don’t suppose you made coffee?”_

_“I got something way better than coffee, baby...”_

_Of course. Morning Tiger is horny Tiger. Oh well, maybe coffee can wait._

_Your mouth is on mine, hungry, passionate, insistent. I open up for you and my body makes the tiniest moves, accommodating, yielding to you. My morning Tiger..._

_I can’t believe I never let myself have this... god, I’m so glad all this... stuff happened. You rejected me, and through that finally punched my eyes open. It’s been hard, but so incredibly good... I never truly lived before these past weeks._

_You raise your head, your eyes large and voracious._

_“I love you, Tiger...”_

 

 

"Fuck I love you, Jim..." I say in awe as I look down into the dark pools of your eyes... the ones that drag me down into their depths.

You've _always_ had this effect on me... You're a dark, devouring creature in human flesh - and barely human, at that.

And here you are... blinking up at me sleepily, with a wryly indulgent smile and an ' _oh, Tiger_ ' look in your eyes.

Fuck... is it any wonder I'm always in a state of sexual delirium around you? Why I'm so quick to drop to my knees and surrender to you?

Only now I'm the aggressor... and since you're letting me, I'm taking full advantage.

My lips move hungrily down your neck.

My hands descend to your pelvis.

You want coffee, I want orgasms, we're getting straight down to business.

One hand closes around your cock, one hand cups your arse and pulls it towards me.

My lips and tongue fasten themselves to the tender bit under your jaw.

Mmm... as I stroke you and you harden, my teeth sink into your neck, making your breath catch in your throat. I pull at your sweet skin, before letting go and smiling at you wolfishly.

I don't take my eyes off you as my hand seeks out the lube on the nightstand. Biting my lip, I coat my hard cock, and your entrance. You gaze up at me and the short tether of my control snaps.

"Mine," I breathe, and dive down to devour your lips again.

 

 

_Hmmm... horny morning Tiger paws on me... fangs in my neck - a bit of pain - a gasp -_

_and then my Tiger is preparing to board - hold on -_

_"Hold on Tigger," I protest as you let me breathe - "that's not what we agreed last night -"_

_"You said 'in the morning'," you grumble, "not 'first thing in the morning'..."_

_Well. I guess I have no reply to that. Except to think that it is rather nice to feel surrounded by possessive aggressive Tiger... feel your hand guide yourself inside me, your mouth on me, feel your hunger, your need - and knowing that you can do this now, that you feel free enough to wake up, to wake me up (!), to decide my orders are for later (!!), and to want me, not ask for permission, but just go for it (!!!). I love that you are so free with me... unthinkable Before, but so good - I never realized how great it can feel to be the object of someone's lust._

 

 

Neatly batting back a counterpoint, I continue advancing upon your body. You could have decided my argument was flawed, and the invasion would have ground to a halt. But thankfully you've elected to enjoy my aggression. I certainly am...

Without further delay, I push into you with a groan.

Pause. Assess resistance. Pull back.

Push further in. Gain more ground.

Repeat.

Oh fuck, yes...

 _repeat_...

again...

again...

again...

Territory claimed.

Mark as yours.

I feel your legs wrapped around my waist...

hear your breathy sighs...

see your head falling back on the pillow, your throat exposed...

 _mmph_... sweet prey...

 _Mine_...

I secure your neck with my lips and teeth as I bury myself in you...

again...

_god, yes_

again...

_ohh... Jim..._

again...

 

 

_Mmm, strong, powerful aggressive Tiger... what did I do to deserve this? Be in the vicinity, probably..._

_I wonder how many bouts of aggression you've suppressed in the past because I wouldn't have allowed it. I did invite your aggression sometimes, tease it out, to see what would happen - but those were very much experiments, on my terms, and you would still be careful to only go as far as I would allow you, rather than just - be at ease and do what you like, as you are doing now, confident that I'll say if I don't want something, rather than fly into a rage._

_Don't think of that -_

_Just enjoy Tiger lust -_

_Cock in my arse, teeth in my neck, groans in my ear... you are so - feral in your pleasure, so intense; it fills your entire being, no holding back, no hesitation or stumbling - you know what you want and you know how you want it, and you are so comfortable in the physical realm, every movement exactly what is needed, no more, no less, but you do it so effortlessly..._

 

 

I look down at you, lock eyes with you.

Fuck. So Beautiful.

Jim.

My husband Jim.

Still throws me. Fucks with my mind.

Crazed thoughts pop up like, What if this were an alcohol-induced dream?

What if the grief drove me mad and I'm delusional?

I swallow hard.

Will these surreal moments ever disappear?

I almost hope not... I don't ever want to take for granted that this happened.

That I - ended up - with - Jim.

Hear that, doubts? You do _not_ get to take this away from me...

I take your hand with your wedding ring, bring it up to my lips and kiss it. Then I shove it against the pillow, pressing down on your wrist. My other hand goes underneath your arse, and I pull your pelvis against mine, pushing myself deeper into you.

I inhale sharply as I'm buried in you, and you moan longingly.

"Fuck, Jim..." I gasp, and drive into you again and again. "I love you, baby... I love you so much..."

 

 

_“I love you Tiger... Sebastian... my love, always... ever since the beginning, and until my last day...”_

_Huh. I thought I didn’t say things like that? Apparently I do. Look at me, becoming a romantic in my old age._

_You feel *exquisite*, your cock just perfect, and you know exactly how to move to give me utmost pleasure... I’ve never been shy about guiding you, and it pays off._

_I move my other wrist close to your hand, and you grasp it, now having both wrists in your big strong hand, and it feels so good to surrender to you... my strong soldier husband..._

 

 

My hand presses down on your wrists. Your head is back, and your body moves deliciously under mine... your surrender is so unbelievably hot, I feel my cock twitch inside you, and my muscles begin to tremble. I begin to stroke your cock.

"I'm close," I groan. "Come, baby... come with me..."

I lean down and kiss you, stroking you faster. I moan against your lips as I summit, and then tip over the edge.

Ohhh...

 _fuck_...

"Oh god," I breathe, and then I'm crying out loudly as my body thrusts against you, into you, JimJim _JIM_...

"Baby..." I gasp... "oh fuck..."

 

 

_What did we say about who comes first, Tiger?_

_But I can't really complain, because your orgasm is so fucking hot, and it pushes me over the edge, hearing your cries, feeling your hard thrusts, and then your heat spreading inside me, feeling your hand clench around my wrists..._

_I buckle, pour myself into your hand, moaning loudly - *fuck*, that's good..._

_"Sebastian... oh god Sebastian..." I hear myself pant._

 

 

I collapse against you, breathing hard.

"Oh fuck... that was amazing..." I groan, resting my head on your shoulder.

"You're so unbelievably sexy..." I murmur, and kiss you.

"Am I crushing you, baby? I'm so sorry..." I pull out with a wince, hating to be parted from you. Then I roll off you, pulling your body against mine.

"Morning, Kitten!" I say brightly, grinning at you. "Can I interest you in a shower, breakfast and a spanking?"

I reach over to the nightstand for tissues to clean us both off.

My hand stops and my smile falters. "Oh, shit... I came first, didn't I..."

 

 

_"Did you? Well, it was what pushed me over the edge... so it served a purpose..." I say magnanimously. "I'll still punish you for it later, don't worry, my dear... your skin will never be without my marks..." I stroke my initials on your chest as you use your tissues to clean us up._

_"You can interest me in coffee in bed, first..." I stretch lazily. "Do you think you can manage to make coffee happen again, or was yesterday's a single stroke of luck?"_

 

 

I laugh. "Darling... If I wasn't being punished for something, I'd think I'd fallen into some tedious alternate universe. Yes, I'll do my best to make coffee with the blasted machine, and not land us in this other dimension..."

I kiss you. "Back in a flash, gorgeous..."

I stretch as I get up, and saunter to the kitchen.

The sun is shining. It's another beautiful day... As I'm punching buttons on the machine and cursing a blue streak, I think about what we could do today...

But nothing comes to me beyond coffee. Then shower, breakfast, spanking... and all that follows.

God, this honeymoon has been incredible... but there's a part of me that feels itchy. Like something isn't being done...? Is it that I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not involved in a mission? Or do I just need work to feel fulfilled?

Do I bring up returning to London? Or am I crazy to even think of that?

And what about the whole conversation we need to have that neither of us want to have and would probably rather suffer a near-drowning or another home invasion than deal with?

Fuck... here I am staring at a beautiful, sunny beach and listing all the ways I can put a damper on the day. Brilliant, Sebastian...

I pour us both a coffee, and bring the cups to the bedroom where my beautiful Jim is waiting for me. I place the cups on the nightstand. Then keeping my big mouth shut, I throw myself on the bed, and start to tickle you.

 

 

_You look... there’s something on your mind._

_Oh that talk? I guess we should have that talk, shouldn’t we... after breakfast and our next fuck..._

_This honeymoon has been a *lot* of fucking. Also a *lot* of talking and crying. The former is not that unusual, the latter very._

_Do I think it’s been good? Useful?_

_Yes, definitely... we’re so much more at ease with each other. Just look at what you did this morning... or-_

_My musings are interrupted by a tickling Tiger. Well. I did just say I was happy that you were feeling more at ease with me, wasn’t I?_

_I tell my body to ignore the tickling, and you look up at me miffed._

_“Coffee.”_

 

 

"Dreadfully sorry, m'dear..." I say in the posh voice you love, and hand you your coffee. "Good Lord! I don't know what came over me... Perhaps it was the epic fuck that addled my brain... and the prospect of spanking your divine rump."

I cross my eyes at you, and you snigger.

Feeling at ease again, I settle next to you and sip my coffee.

 

 

_"You keep this up, and there shall be no spanking anywhere near your future," I threaten lazily, drink my coffee. It's another lovely morning and it's going to be the day, isn't it. The day where we discuss what's been the elephant in the room for our entire honeymoon._

_The fact that I died._

_That I left you alone for days, weeks on end, because I had a job to focus on, one that I didn't want to discuss with you. The fact that you *begged* me to let you in, but I pushed you away. The fact that you were desperately hoping that if you waited patiently I would eventually come back._

_The fact that you were still waiting patiently when you heard that I'd shot myself through the head._

_The fact that you had to somehow live with the knowledge that I'd killed myself to win some game that I'd never let you be a part of._

_The fact that you had never been enough._

_That I wanted to win a game with Holmes more than I wanted to live._

_That I wanted to die more than I wanted to be with you._

_Oh god Sebastian... how will I ever be able to apologize... to make it up..._

_I know we must have this talk... but if there were any way to rewind the clock two years... I'd give anything..._

_But even all my power and all my money can't do shit against time... against truth and consequence..._

 

 

As you drink your coffee, you get pensive... and then downright broody.

God... you sensed I was thinking about it, didn't you...

How do you always know??

I sigh as I drink my coffee. I was going to hold off for as long as possible. Even leave it until tomorrow. But now that you're onto me, I don't think there's any stopping this.

This.

Thing between us.

This dark cloud...

I lean my head against the headboard, and stare off.

I don't want to do this.

 _Jim_...

 

 

_I want to be close to you... I feel lonely, I feel miles away..._

_I snuggle at your arm until you lift it and wrap it around me._

_“I love you, Sebastian... always have, always will...”_

 

 

I stare at you, looking so lost... it makes me want to cry to see you this way.

You seem somewhat reassured when my arm is around you.

Your words echo in my mind. _Always have..._

A faint smile ghosts across my lips. I press them to yours longingly.

"I love you too, baby... my heart has always been yours. And it always will be."

I rest my head against yours, and kiss your palm. "Breakfast?" I ask softly, and kiss it again.

 

 

_“Yes, let’s...” I stretch._

_We head to the kitchen, where you cook us breakfast while I make some more coffee. We’re both quiet, subdued. We know we have to have the talk and we don’t want to..._

_We can’t not. It’s going to keep hanging over us, keep rotting away at us from the inside..._

_I look outside. It’s quite nice._

_“Do you want to use the nest?”_

 

 

My heart slams in my chest.

We haven't even said a word about it... it's just happening.

I turn to look at you.

You look back steadily.

I sigh. "Want is not the word I'd use. But nest sounds good..."

My stomach fills with a sensation that is prickly, sticky, and black.

Oh god... Jim...

 

 

_You look - oh. Yeah. We hadn’t said anything in words. Like we need to... that was something that was true even Before. I only needed a look for you to know who to kill, where to kneel, what to grab and give me._

_I’m so sorry Sebastian. “If it’s any consolation, I’m dreading it too. Enormously. I’d give anything not to need to have this talk... but it’s a dark cloud between you and me, and - god, I’d do *anything* to undo what I did..._

_Anyway. Nest first.”_

_I look down at my plate, my eyes already damp._

 

 

There's a lump in my throat as I hear you speak.

Why am I doing this to you?

I already know you're mine...

I spot tell-tale moisture in your eyes, and rush to grasp you in my arms with a whimper.

"Jim... god, Jim... I don't know if I can do this... it's so fucking awful..." I whisper, burying my face in your hair.

I want to shout, ‘You're forgiven... let's just move past this!!’

I toy with the thought, feeling hopeful, but the darkness thuds in my stomach, relentlessly.

No. We can't move past this. Not yet.

"I love you," I murmur, helplessly.

 

 

_“I love you too, Tiger. We can do anything, together. Even slay our biggest demon.”_

_Which is entirely of my making, but I probably should leave the guilt-tripping until we’re in our nest._

_I’m sorry Seb, my appetite has gone. I pick at my food, drink some more coffee, but most of it goes uneaten. I notice even you don’t finish your plate._

_You load the dishwasher, I get the stuff to build the nest, we set it up with practised ease, in subdued quiet._

_The earlier talks we had - were different. They were about one of us offloading, and the other supporting._

_This is about *us*. About how I destroyed us. How I nearly destroyed you._

_I fear it more than I’ve ever feared anything. Even the opening of the bunker and reliving my mam’s death, horrid though it was. This is about me, to all intents and purposes, slowly, torturously killing the best man I’ve ever met. I have no idea what it’s going to be like - if you’re going to be angry, or sad; what either of us can say - all of my genius and my ability to plan five steps in advance come up empty here._

_I staple the towels to the palm tree as you load up the drinks. Both in a funereal mood._

_There’s no more to do._

_We’re done._

_I’m nowhere near ready._

 

 

I feel like I'm barely present as I clean up the remains of breakfast.

I'm a ghost...

I'm consumed with guilt...

I'm afraid...

Afraid of what I'll find when I rip off this bandage...

or maybe it's more like Pandora's box, better closed up tight.

God knows what will spring out...

maybe a monster that will destroy us.

but there's no stopping this runaway train now...

Hauling drinks, I trudge out across the beach towards you.

I throw myself down on a towel.

I rub my face with both hands and look at you wide-eyed.

"Jim, I..." I look up at the sky, tears springing to my eyes.

"I don't know how to do this! Like... what's the _point_? I don't _want_ to get angry at you... you're not that person any more! So why can't I let it go??"

I cover my face and groan. "This is fucked," I whisper. "I'm so fucked..."

 

 

_Oh my darling... this is so hard on you, and it’s killing me..._

_Take charge, Moriarty. It’s what you do. It’s what he needs. What you both need._

_“OK...” I turn to you, climb onto your lap, sit between your legs, my arms and legs wrapped around you, yours around me._

_“Let’s try approaching this backwards. Starting from here, this moment.”_

_I look into your eyes._

_“We are strong. We are in love; we’ve been through so much and we love each other so fucking much.”_

_I take your left hand, with your wedding ring, put it on my heart; put mine on yours._

_“We are married. With vows and rings and blood, merged together forever. This is never going to change; it is the base upon which we build our life._

_Let’s take that as our launching point and work our way back from here. If we’re grounded in the knowledge of our union and unity, we know we are safe, no matter how hard it gets._

_OK?”_

 

 

I try not to whimper when I feel you on my lap, wrapping yourself around me. I hold onto you tightly, focusing on your warmth... your sweet skin... the dark pools of your eyes.

 _We are in love_...

Yes, Jim.. so much...

_Vows and rings and blood, merged together forever._

I feel your heart beating beneath my hand, see my ring gleaming on my finger.

Yes. God, yes...

_We are safe, no matter how hard it gets._

I sigh heavily.

"OK."

I lay my head on your shoulder.

I want to apologize to you profusely for putting you through this... but... that doesn’t make sense. What about what you put me through?

 

"I don't know what I want to say... it may take me a while to get there..." I say, my voice cracking.

 

"That day that you came back... I was going to kill myself and then... instead decided to make a break from you. For good. If you had come back after that day, I... honestly don't know what would have happened. If you had come back before..." I draw in a shaky breath, and my next words come out in a rush. "I would have taken you back. You know I would have. Not even a question. Maybe I would have yelled and punched you. But... it horrifies me more than you can imagine. To think... the difference of a day, a few hours... we might have just _picked up where we left off_. You'd still be chasing fucking Sherlock. And I'd still be your _dog_." The last words come out in a snarl.

I raise my head slowly. My eyes widen. Shit. _Shit_. Where is this going.

 

"Did you want to fuck him?" I demand, my voice sounding tight and furious. You look shocked.

I pull away from you abruptly and stand up, needing to pace, needing to _move_...

 

"And if you did... would you have made me wait outside your room like a guard dog? Made me listen to your noises to show my loyalty? Is that what would have happened, Jim?"

There's a wild, feverish spark running through my words... threatening to overtake me.

I won't let it. I _won't._

I look down at you - your mouth is hanging open, and you're looking flushed. There are bright pink spots on your cheeks. Are you angry? _Tough_.

I cross my arms. "Answer me." My voice is cold, livid.

 

 

_You were going to kill yourself. Because of me leaving._

_And I didn’t want to realize. I didn’t want to think that that was how you felt._

_But - didn’t I know? Deep down?_

_Hidden because I didn’t want to go there? Information not used, which nearly proved fatal, because I found the truth... *inconvenient*?!_

 

_‘If you had come back before...’_

_Yes, I’d thought about that too... what if you’d done what I’d expected and just taken me back the way we were? Would I have blindly gone on and gone back into the game, ignoring you? Even after how much I’d missed you?_

_Except I didn’t know that I’d missed you... I was denying even that..._

_I’d have gone in, fucked you rotten for a few days, and gone right back to the way we were... I can’t deny that that is the most likely outcome..._

 

_... *your dog*._

 

_I whimper slightly at that. I manage to keep it internal. That - you’re right, and that is what hurts most of all. If you’d be unreasonable I could protest, get angry... but you’re absolutely right, I can’t say a thing against it._

 

_‘Did you want to fuck him?’_

_What?!_

 

_“No!!”_

_... does it matter, though? Does it matter what I wanted to do with the man who obsessed me, who I wanted to reach more than anything? Would I have fucked him if it would have furthered my game, if it would have gone that way?_

_... definitely._

_I fucked Kitty Riley and Molly Hooper. Without a thought._

_Without a thought of you._

_One thing at a time though. This isn’t about *you* and your guilt trip, Moriarty. This is about Sebastian. And he seems to find this a particularly important issue, so tell him._

 

_“No. That’s not what it was about. I was obsessed with him, yes, but with beating him... killing him. Not fucking him.”_

 

 

I watch you through narrowed eyes, still pacing.

 

"You _would_ have, though... If you got into his clever, clever brain and discovered he had the hots for you... you would have _railed_ that skinny arse. And I would have just had to deal with it!"

I stop abruptly and cover my face. "This is insane... I'm raking you over the coals for something that didn't happen. For something you say you didn't want! And it shouldn't matter. But it _does_!"

I storm over to the palm tree and punch the towel-covered trunk.

"It _does_ fucking matter!"

I punch it again.

"Kitty Riley! Molly Hooper! Anybody else you fucked that I didn't know about! And had _me_ fuck! My little professional session with Irene Adler, that _you_ freaked out about after! Jesus! How much of a motherfucking plaything did you need!" I shout at the sky. "And up until a _few weeks ago_ , you were ready to resume your obsession with Mycroft and Boy Fucking Wonder!" I rest my hand on the palm tree and lean against it, staring at the sand.

My voice grows dangerously quiet. "What happens when we go back to London, Jim...?"

 

 

_“He clearly was devoted to John, and too deluded about his own feelings to realize it,” I reply, then - oh._

_He was not the only one, was he? I could have told Sherlock a thing or two, but then he might have been able to tell me some things as well... if he had realized you existed, which he didn’t._

_That’s an interesting point... I carefully kept you away from both Holmeses... to protect you? Or - because I knew you were madly jealous?_

_Kitty Riley. Molly Hooper. They don’t count Seb... they were just... pawns... we played with pawns when we were personas... like you and... oh. Yes. Like you and Irene._

_And yes, I got jealous about that. Even though I sent you to her._

 

_And yes, I would have gone back to that life if you hadn’t punched some sense into me..._

_Oh god…_

_Oh god Sebastian..._

_You were hurting *so much* - not just the obvious anger at being kept out of the game, but the things I did and made you do... and you never complained - or no, you did complain, but not about the sex - just about being kept out._

_Tears are threatening but they won’t grant me the relief of coming out. Acid bile attacks me from my stomach outwards._

_I treated you like a pawn, and you treated me like a king. But a pawn is disposable. And without you, I’m nothing._

_I treated you like a pawn, never realizing you were my queen - the one the king sends to do the actual work. The one without whom the king is lost._

_What will happen when we go back to London?!_

_I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it._

_You want to know if I’ll start playing with Holmes again?_

 

_“Whatever you want, Sebastian.”_

 

 

You go very quiet... sometimes your silence is a very big, very red flag. But you don't seem angry or defensive... at the moment. Just deep in thought. And sad.

And then...

"Whatever _I_ want?" I stare at you, in disbelief. "Really. So if I say we don't go near fucking Sherlock ever again, you're just fine with it? After all the chipping away he's been doing to the Empire? You can leave that alone?" I demand, and step closer, pushing my face closer to yours. "Or if I say I want to kill fucking Sherlock? Without you being involved, however I choose to? And you lose your little chess playmate? That's just fine with you?"

 

 

_“I assumed you would want to kill Sherlock. And I’m fine with that.”_

_You look at me._

_“Really, I am, Sebastian. I owe you so much... I have such a massive debt of guilt to pay... but even if I didn’t - you are everything to me. Sherlock - I can’t imagine why he seemed so important. He was an obsession, which was all-consuming at the time, but now - all I can think of is how inferior he is to you. I got carried away by his mind being like mine, and that is so rare, and competitive as I am, of course I wanted to try myself against him -_

_but it doesn’t matter. His mind, Mycroft’s mind, whether I can beat them - none of that matters when compared to you. You have always been the most magnificent item in my life and you did it so smoothly that I didn’t even realize._

_I’d let you kill anyone; I’d kill them myself, I’d happily give them the entire empire with a pink bow around it if it would make you happy.”_

_I look up at you._

_“I thought you’d realized that by now...”_

 

 

I choke out a laugh and start to pace again. "Yeah well... I guess my foolish heart hasn't caught up to my mind yet. What I think I know and what I feel are two separate things..."

I chew my lip as I walk. "What if... another player enters the field one day?" I say slowly. "A _different_ succulent mind that you want to try yourself against... will that be all-consuming, too? Yeah, I know - we can't know the future, bla bla _bla_... And you know what? _I don't care_. You're _with me_ or it's the same damn thing all over again, whether it's Sherlock or Fascinating Genius X. And I _won't do it_. I won't be tossed aside again," I snarl.

Why didn't I bring my gun? I would love to shoot a coconut... or a window. I take a bottle from the cooler, throw it against a tree and watch it smash with a shiver of furious pleasure.

 

 

_I’d expected anger. Of course; I knew there would be anger. And yet it hurts so much... every phrase cuts through me with a blade of ice, severing me from you._

_I thought I was doing the whole ‘we’re together and have a solid base’ mostly for you. But I need it - god I need it..._

_Your anger is perfectly justified, but it cuts into me, makes me feel so scared and alone - you’re going to leave me, you hate me, I ruined your life, I deserve you beating me up and abandoning me, and that’s what’s going to happen..._

_And I know it’s not, and I thank every god who’s listening; you’re not going to leave me; I don’t know how or why, but you love me, and you’re mine and you’ll stay with me even though it’s the last thing I deserve._

_“Sebastian. Look at me.” You stop scowling at the palm tree and turn to me._

_“I swore myself to you. You asked me to swear, and I quote: ‘Do you renounce the past? Do you renounce anything which could destroy us? Do you renounce whatever could draw you from my love? Do you turn to me and accept me as your partner in all things? Do you put your whole trust in my love and devotion? And do you promise to cherish this relationship above all else, as something that brings us back to our hearts, and our souls?’”_

_I look up at you._

_“I *swore* that, Sebastian.”_

_Don’t get angry at him; he’s been through a lot; he’s finally releasing what’s been pent up inside him..._

_“I swore it and meant it. I know I’m partial to getting obsessed - but nothing will ever be allowed to draw me away from you. And I - fuck, I am *so incredibly sorry* for how I used you - but never again. I swear, Sebastian - anything you do, anything I do, from now on, is a joint venture. If you don’t like it, it won’t happen. I may get pissed off - but remind me of my vows._

_It’s you and me against the world, Sebastian.”_

 

 

“All right! I believe you won't obsess about someone else! I believe you're incredibly sorry! I believe you meant everything you swore! But I _still have to do this_! I have to get it out! It's going to _poison_ me, Jim! It's going to poison _us_ , do you understand that?"

I wander around the beach holding my head in my hands.

"How did we get here?" I ask in an anguished voice. "Were we happy? I think we were... was it real, Jim? Or just a fairy tale we concocted for ourselves while hiding from the world and hiding from ourselves? Just a few weeks in Mexico where I got to - live - my - dream -" I make a strangled sound in my throat, and fall to my knees in the sand.

"I need you to tell me! Will you feel the same when we go back to London? Will you still love me if I'm not a perfect, obedient, pet Tiger? If I get angry? How about then, Jim? How about _now_?"

I storm up, take the cooler, and with a furious howl, I fling it hard against the tree. I hear shattering glass and bottles go flying. I whimper and fall back to my knees. I crawl forward, my hands digging into the sand.

"Oh god..." I choke back a sob. "I'm ruining... everything..."

 

 

_“Sebastian. You’re not ruining anything. If anything, I am._

_I *know* you have to do this; I know you have a lot of anger to unleash, and I don’t know how to respond - if you want me to be reassuring, or antagonistic so you can properly unleash at me, or explain how I was thinking, or apologize... I don’t *know*...”_

_And it’s hurting like hell to see you like this; to see you in such pain, pain from the past that I caused and that you’ve been carrying... I wish you would just beat me up, but I can’t ask that, because that doesn’t make you feel better..._

_And now you’re crying in the sand and I don’t know what to do..._

_“Mexico is not a dream, Tiger. We can go anywhere - it’s we who have changed, not the world. We don’t have to go back to London._

_I built the Empire because I was furious at the world and wanted my revenge, and I wanted to make sure I never would have to sleep on the street any more._

_And it became a thing of its own, my reason for being. I became obsessed._

_And then I met Holmes, and got obsessed with him, and I was willing to risk the Empire to a point - I knew I would likely lose quite a chunk from the London section by disappearing, but it was worth it, and I was certain that it would remain, if in a lesser form._

_I know I have an obsessive personality - but I am tenacious in my obsessions, as you have seen. It takes a lot to make me give them up._

_You are my obsession now, Tiger - and have been for a long time, but I was too scared to see it. But you are more than the latest craze to possess me - I *love* you, and I never loved Holmes or the Empire. They were just - means to an end. You are an end in yourself._

_So - if you don’t want to go to London, we won’t. We can go anywhere, do anything: and it’s both of us who decide._

_But even if we do go to London - I won’t get obsessed with Holmes again, because I have a much better obsession._

_And I can’t guarantee the future, but that’s why we made vows. I vowed I would not treat you like a tool again, and I won’t._

_But-“ I rub my hand over my face, through my hair, “I don’t know if that is what you needed to hear, or if you want to rage at me some more - fuck, I deserve it - or - what..._

_I don’t know, Seb...”_

_I look up at you, pleading. Please help me... please show me how to be what you need right now..._

 

 

I swipe at my eyes furiously. "I don't know what I want! That's the problem!" I shout. "God! I'm hurt, I'm angry, and I don't know what to do with it! Other than _railing_ at you, and..." I heave a sigh. "It's _hurting_ me to do that!"

I stare out at the sea. "It was almost easier before... dealing with my past with David... even though I thought it was going to tear me to pieces. You were there to support me... Now what? I'm supposed to express rage at the person I love most in the world? It's _impossible_... it's fucking _impossible_!"

I cover my face, weeping furiously into my hands.

I can just imagine the look of pain on your face, and that just makes it _worse_...

Jesus, just shoot me... take me out to the sea and throw me overboard for the sharks.

After a few miserable moments, I uncover my tear-stained face and give a long, shuddering sigh.

"Bloody impossible..." I mutter brokenly as I wipe my eyes. "It's like beating on a sweet, adorable bunny..."

I glare at you. "The choice is _not_ between reassuring and antagonistic. Be yourself! Be defensive if you feel it, be angry if you feel it! Get up!"

You look resigned, and walk slowly over to me. You think I'm going to beat you, don't you? Oh no, darling... way too easy.

I slide my hands around the back of your neck, and tighten my grip, holding you in place. "I was going to ask you to be _him_ for me. But that would be too easy. And it wouldn't _help_. You did a fucked up, horrible thing, Jim Moriarty..." Pain flashes in your eyes, and realization dawns on me. "And... _you_ need to face this as much as I do..."

I look at you long and hard. I take your hand, look at your wedding ring, and kiss it longingly.

Then I shove you into the sand.

"How does it feel having to sit there and just take it while I freak out at you about the awful things you did?" I shout. "Get up!"

 

 

_“How do you *think* it feels?!” I shout._

_Oh. Getting angry? Don’t get angry, Jim - he’s entitled to this -_

_Yes well *fuck* that - I’m not sitting here being shoved around -_

_I jump up, the acid in my body starting to boil -_

_“Yes what I did was terrible! Unforgivable! And I don’t know what to do - how to atone - how to get rid of this thing that’s festering inside us, between us, inside both of us! It’s killing me, it’s fucking killing me! And I don’t know what to do with it - I want to kill someone, but I can’t! I want to beat someone up, but I can’t!”_

_I make my way to the palm tree, start pummelling it. “I want to bash my head against this fucking tree until the memories die, but I can’t do that either!_

_I’ve fucked up monumentally and I can - never - make - it - right...” I howl._

 

 

I grab your shoulder and pull you back to face me.

"Yeah, you did! Monumentally!" I snarl. "But it's not unforgivable if I forgive you, is it! So don't make it worse! Don't make it harder! You know I'm going to forgive you, you fucker!"

I push you hard against the tree.

"Don't just sit there and take it while I yell at you and shove you! That's not what we do! You're Jim fucking Moriarty!"

I smile at you fiercely, feeling my eyes flare. Then I hook my foot around your ankle, and like quicksilver push you back into the sand.

You stare up at me, eyes flashing.

"I asked you a question!" I roar. "If Sherlock had wanted it... and you had given it to him... Where. The fuck. _Would I. Have been_."

 

 

_“What the fuck kind of question is that?!” I snarl as I get up, facing you, shoving you in turn. “That’s not what he’s like! I flirted with him because it made him uncomfortable! Imagining that is like imagining - I don’t know what!” I’m not in my usual eloquent mode, am I?_

_I push your shoulder. “Don’t make it worse than it was! What happened was bad enough and you want to make it worse?! Why the fuck?!_

_But let me ask you this - where were you when I fucked Riley and Hooper? Where was I when you had your session with Adler? I was insane, I was careless, I was horrible, and I crossed too many boundaries to count, but that is *one* that I didn’t!”_

 

 

The claws that have been lodged in my chest loosen their grip slightly.

 _You wouldn't have done it._ I hold back a whimper.

"Oh _that_ one you didn't! Because you were considering my feelings? That means you knew! You _knew_ how I felt about you, otherwise it wouldn't have mattered! Which means on _some_ level you knew and still shut me out, still plotted to fake your own death, still let me believe you were dead for a goddamn year! Who does that to someone?! Oh _right_ , you and your good friend Sherlock..."

I push you back against the tree, banging your head. I hold you by the throat. You wince.

"You've already explained very well how you saw the world, how your mind worked back then..." I say in a hard, cold voice. "I don't need you to say it again... I'm very clear how much of a psycho you were and the fucked up things it made you do..."

I stare at you, searching. Then... what do I need? What do I really need?

I don't need to hit you. I don't need you to rip yourself to shreds, tear your guts out...

What do I need?

My hand loosens around your throat, and my fingers curl around your neck.

_You wouldn't have done it._

A small whimper escapes my throat.

"Tell me why," I plead. "Why was that a boundary you wouldn't cross?"

 

 

_Was I?! Did I? I don’t *know* - it’s so hard to recall how I felt back then; it seems so alien -_

_*Look back*, Moriarty. You don’t want to, but do it regardless - you owe him -_

 

_A year and a few months ago._

_(*hurts* - I don’t want to be here - please -)_

_(No - focus)_

_I’m going to Riley. I’ve convinced her of my cause, she’s mad about Richard Brook - I love the pun, I’m gutted I can’t tell her, thick bird - I hope Sherlock gets it -_

_Sebastian is getting in my face. He doesn’t want me to leave. He is making *demands*, being unreasonable -_

_I hurt him to shut him up. I leave._

 

_Stop. Zoom in. Observe._

_(*pain* - *self-loathing* -)_

_I went back to see him. Why?_

_(I miss you I love you)_

_NO. I’m in the zone, in the mission. Mind only. I don’t have a heart._

_But he deserves some attention. He’s been a great soldier. He wants this._

_(I hate you why are you trying to affect me and why is it working I will destroy you)_

_Fuck - I’ve gone too far - I nearly fucking killed him -_

_(Why do you let me do this?! Why don’t you defend yourself?! Why have you no fucking sense of self-preservation?!)_

_And why does it hurt - NO -_

_Fuck off Sebastian -_

_(*painpainpain*)_

 

_No - *look* - he’s demanding it - why did I not involve him in sex escapades?_

_Because he would be jealous -_

_But he was jealous of Sherlock - what is the difference -_

_Because in *some twisted way* I was fucking faithful to you - because I was *furious* after the Adler thing - because there was no love between us but somehow both of us knew there was no sex with others - and when I did, for the game, it was somehow repulsive and I didn’t want to shove your nose into it -_

_“I loved you...”_

_Tears are streaming down my face as I try to see your face._

_“Somewhere deep down I loved you and I hated you for it because it destroyed who I was, cold heartless killer, who I *needed* to be, and the more you distracted me the angrier I got; you were getting under my skin, and I knew I was jealous, and I knew you were jealous, and it was never a conscious decision, but I never shagged anyone but you, and I made damn sure you didn’t, and when I had to sleep with Molly and Kitty - it didn’t *count*, but I knew it would for you, so I kept you away - I didn’t want to think about why, but deep down I must have known and I hated you for it so much...”_

_I lean forward, into your hands, you pull them back so I don’t choke, there is so much turmoil inside me, such hurt, such self-hatred..._

 

 

You're doing it... deep diving into the past, into your psyche, looking for the answer I need, I crave...

The expressions that flit across your face are terrifying, heartbreaking...

Cold, furious...

sorrowful, so guilty...

I feel like I'm being given a glimpse into your haunted skull... that cold, dark place so full of demons, shadows and wings, red and black, red and black...

pinching claws...

strangled screams...

what things were like for you back then...

and for your whole life...

_It wasn't all about you, Seb..._

He was always like this... cold... angry... ruthless... cruel...

(so tormented... so haunted...)

it was _you_ that changed that...

 

it must have been... so bloody unsettling for you, Jim... for feelings to be bubbling away, scratching at the door of your consciousness, wanting to be let in, _let us in_...

I was demanding things of you that you couldn't give,

weren't _capable_ of giving...

not yet,

 _no, god, not that_...

but underneath, the 'damage' was being done... cracks in the foundation... getting larger...

terrifying you...

the bunker straining... metal bulging and groaning...

had to contain it, didn't you, Jim...

 

"I loved you..." you say brokenly, tears streaming down your face.

I listen numbly.

"...deep down I must have known and I hated you for it so much...” you weep.

 

And then it clicks. Your escape, seemingly about the game...

was it to get away from the torment _I_ was causing you?

Because it threatened you on a fundamental level?

Was that why you couldn't share the plan with me? Why you inflicted such pain on me, why you stayed hidden away?

Because fear was trickling through like acid? Because it made you want to claw at your own skin to get to your insides, drain the poison, wipe away the panic?

Clean sweep. That’s what you needed, the only thing that could save you from total annihilation, as you saw it.

Solution: Death. A mad flight from the terrible truth.

Hiding away. Safe for a time from your feelings... for _me_.

 

"It wasn't all about Sherlock, was it... the faked death... hiding from the world... " I say hoarsely. My hands fall against your shirt, grasping the fabric.

"Jim... were you on some level... trying to get away from me... away from facing your feelings for me?" I whisper.

My fingers tighten in your shirt.

Oh god... _Jim_...

 

 

_No... no..._

_(*pain*)_

_I killed it, I killed it... I’m safe now... I’m gone... I’m in Italy..._

_But it’s not dead, just like I’m not dead; I can’t kill it; I can’t; not even by dying..._

 

Looking at newspapers online, feeling relief when I see evidence of Sebastian...

Dreaming of Sebastian, then getting angry when I wake up and beating the shit out of a punching bag...

Not touching anyone in Italy, despite the maddening boredom...

 

_... going back further..._

 

_... Focussing on the Empire is not enough-_

_... Sebastian is getting too close-_

_... I have to cut him loose-_

_... I can’t..._

_I have to remove him -_

_I have to - send him on a mission -_

_(I miss him)_

_Get him back -_

_what do I do -_

_Go *away* Sebastian, leave me alone -_

_NO, come back -_

_(I hate you I hate you why don’t you just fuck off -)_

_Please stay with me -_

 

_Sherlock._

 

_Yes._

 

_A worthy opponent._

_Someone to get my teeth into._

_So *delightful*... finally someone who can keep me fascinated, keep me motivated, keep me_

_(*distracted*)_

 

_I’m hanging limply in your grip as the realizations flood me, pummel me, have me gasp for breath._

_How did I not see this?_

_... because I was so carefully not looking..._

 

_“Sebastian...” I croak._

_“It was all you. It was only ever you.”_

_I raise my hands, rub my face, grasp my fingers into my hair._

_“I was fucking terrified of what you were doing to me - how close you were getting - I kept trying to send you away and then needing you back; I hated you for how you made me feel - you made me *feel*, and I didn’t want that - I didn’t do feelings -_

_Fucking Sherlock was a *distraction*! A way to stop myself from obsessing about *you*! It was *you*, always *you*!”_

_Your hands have dropped, I’m hanging against the tree, rubbing my temples._

_“I didn’t want to see it - even now, here, I was so scared to go there - I was so fucking blind to my own feelings; I tried anything to avoid-_

_It wasn’t just Italy. It was the whole thing. I’d never have got so obsessed with Sherlock if I hadn’t been trying to move away from you..._

_I’m so fucked up...”_

 

 

You're in shock... wide-eyed... reeling...

As am I. Watching as my question sends you plunging back into the past to discover...

discover...

_It was all you. It was only ever you._

Oh. God.

And I hurtle back into the past with you.

Memories streaming back...

how we would get closer, and then something would always abruptly get in the way...

you disappearing for days, weeks, without a word...

being sent on endless missions away from you...

you withdrawing beyond a wall of coldness and such cruelty...

 _your infernal obsession with Sherlock_...

all a smokescreen??

Jim??

My hands fall away from you.

_It wasn’t just Italy. It was the whole thing._

One moment you're leaning against the tree, and rubbing your temples... the next, you blur as my eyes flood with tears.

"All that time I was yearning for you... you were -" I choke back a sob. "Oh god..."

My hands return to your shirt and cling to the fabric.

"Jim... baby... what happened in Italy?" I whisper, weeping. "What made you come back?"

 

 

_Italy? Horrible Italy..._

_Why did I come back?_

_*Sebastian*..._

_“I wanted to see you... I wanted you..._

_I didn’t want to admit it, but I did..._

_I was so fucking bored, restless... telling myself I wanted to get back to work..._

_But... inside... the place where I didn’t want to look... I wanted to be with you...”_

_I’m crying like a child, leaning against you, against the tree... I feel so weak but also so light, finally releasing all this stuff that I refused to realize that I was carrying..._

_“I didn’t know Sebastian... I really didn’t know..._

_It’s you... it’s only ever been you..._

_I’m so sorry...”_

 

 

_It’s you... it’s only ever been you..._

I’m clinging to you, desperately afraid that if I let go, you’ll fall, I’ll fall, or I’ll wake up from this dream. This dream where you’re telling me... you have always wanted me.

That you didn’t let me think you were dead out of callousness and cruelty... but terror from what was happening to you... because of _me_.

Oh _god_...

I close my eyes briefly, and hear a whimpering sound. It’s me.

My eyes open and I see you. Crying profusely, looking so small.

So vulnerable.

And I see you alone and desperate, driven by fear... plotting your escape, faking your death, and running away to Italy. Hiding by yourself for a year. All to get away from your feelings that were threatening the foundation of your psyche. Your feelings... for _me_.

All this time... Jim...

My chest cracks open, and I’m sobbing, great noisy sobs, where I’m gasping for air.

I don’t remember doing it, but I’ve pulled you to me, pulled us down to the ground...

And I weep like there’s no end in sight, holding onto you, whispering, “Jim... Jim...” and not being able to say another word.

 

 

_We’re in a heap of tears on the floor, among fallen bottles and broken glass, and you’re crying your big strong broken Tiger heart out, and I’m crying, dissolving the years and years of encrusted callousness and shedding it, and I don’t think I will ever be able to stop crying, because my exoskeleton is melting and what’s inside is so small and vulnerable and sad..._

_I’m holding on to you so tight, because if I don’t, I don’t know what will happen, but I don’t want to find out, I just want to hold you forever, my dear sweet desolate Tiger..._

 

 

I cling to you, crying for the years of torment, and the year of grief which nearly destroyed me.

But I'm also crying for you... my fucked-up beloved... the lengths you went to, my darling, my dear...

just to keep me out, to keep us apart... knowing that our coming together would destroy the fortress your psyche had constructed to protect you.

And all it took was the memory of a broken, but determined soldier, so in love... ignoring all reason and danger... recklessly, relentlessly trying to find a way in through your mighty walls...

And now we're sitting in the ruins of that fortress... there's broken glass on the sand, and it takes me back to the flat in London... all the broken crockery from our chaotic, impassioned reunion... that one jagged piece of glass that I made you hold to my own throat...

and then in the bedroom here in Mexico... the shattered glasses from when I had my meltdown, remembering the trauma from my past... which I could only face because you were there - supporting me, holding me as I wept.

and now...

now... I'm lifting you up, carefully stepping around the glass. Walking to the nest, tears streaming down my cheeks, I lay you down on the duvet with all the cushions, and wrap myself around you... shivering so hard, I have to grit my teeth to keep them from chattering.

And I look at you, knowing I should say something, but words feel so small... It feels impossible to say aloud the enormity of what I'm feeling. And at the same time, each word feels as big and weighty as a cannonball... I manage to choke out, "Love - you -" before bursting into tears again, and burying my face in your neck, feeling your skin grow damp.

 

 

_I’m losing myself, losing everything I had, everything I was, and I don’t know what I’m going to be, what is going to be left, I’m dissolving into a duvet on a Mexican beach in the arms of my love... the man that I spent years trying to flee, but who I couldn’t escape._

 

_“Sebastian...” is all I can say._

_“I’m so sorry... so sorry... I was so stupid... such a coward... it’s my fault, Sebastian, all my fault... I hurt you so much... all because I was so fucking determined to not - feel...”_

 

 

"Jim - no -" I protest. "Please, I don't care. Please."

Words are trickling out now, and I have no idea what I'm saying. "I just want you; I don't care. If you're stupid, then so am I. Come here, my adorable idiot... please..."

 

"I _am_ here," you sniffle, and it makes me laugh. It _hurts_ to laugh, as though it's making light of a deep wound we both carry. I'm afraid for a moment it will unleash a new torrent of sobs. But there's time for that later... I need to connect with you now.

 

I stare at you. Your face is red and streaked with tears. You look so sad, and younger than ever.

"So am I." I hold out my hand to you, showing you my ring. You look at me, and I take your left hand, press your palm against mine, and hold your wrist. Our fingers clasp together.

"We are strong. We are in love. We are married. We are safe..." I murmur. "And as for anything that's _not that_... I don't fucking care."

I draw our clasped hands to my lips, and kiss the back of yours. "I don't care, Kitten," I whisper against your skin.

 


	6. What's the Definition of Being Fucked Up?

_“It’s gone...” I sniffle. “It’s gone, isn’t it, Tiger? The poison... the one thing hanging between us... we’ve solved it... It was all my stupidity, my stubbornness, my cowardice - I was so horrible, so horrible...”_

_Tears keep flowing as the memories beat onto my unprotected soul - shouting at you to fuck off, shutting you out when you demanded to know what was going on; getting furious at you and beating you to within an inch of your life... you *letting* me, because you were addicted to me, I had you fully conditioned; because you’d rather die at my hands than leave me... but then I killed *myself* - the worst thing I could have done to you..._

_I am keening, whimpering; the guilt is flaying me alive; you’re holding me, whispering sweet words of forgiveness and love, and you *always* forgave me, but some things are beyond forgiveness, Tiger..._

 

 

I hate seeing you like this, my heart _hurts_ , and I'm trying so hard to show you you're forgiven... but still the tears keep coming... your keening cuts into me more deeply than any knife you've ever used on me.

"Yes, baby... it's gone," I say, desperately holding on to you as you shake in my arms. "It's gone, it's _gone_... please, I want you. Please, Jim... come back to me now..."

I kiss your wet, swollen face, and wipe the tears from your eyes.

"I miss you..." I say, my voice cracking. "Please come back... I told you I'd forgive you, you little fucker..." I hear my words, and I laugh again through my tears. "My sweet, bewitching little fucker..." I murmur, kissing your lips. "Don't you get it? I'm more hopelessly in love with you than ever..."

 

 

_Words penetrate the dark folds of despair I’m lost in._

_Tiger... wants me? Misses me? Loves me?_

_After all I’ve done?_

_Impossible..._

_... Tiger kisses on my face, my lips, sweet words spoken..._

_Worry in the tone - voice cracking -_

_No please Tiger, I love you, I love you, don’t be sad, don’t be sad because of me, you’ve had enough sadness because of me, more than enough, so much more than enough..._

_“You’re insane,” I croak. “Stockholm Syndrome, probably. Completely bonkers.” I attempt a smile._

_You smile, that beautiful smile that lights up the world, hug me close. “You’re insane as well, so we’re a great match,” you murmur, kissing me._

_“God, Tiger... I feel like a peeled shrimp boiled in acid... See, that’s why I never wanted to do feelings... they *fucking* hurt...”_

_I stroke your face, your beautiful face, your eyes red from crying, your cheeks wet, your hair gold and silver, your skin tanned from the sun here, a few more wrinkles, but they include ones from laughter and smiles as well as frowns..._

_“I am without a doubt the worst man in this world. Evil, stupid, jealous, cruel. But you married me so you’re stuck with me... and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the horrors I’ve put you through._

_My Tiger, my love, my Sebastian...”_

_Exhausted, I lay my head on your shoulder, you stroke my hair, kiss my brow._

 

 

Feeling your eyes on me and your hands on my face is like the sun breaking through dark clouds and filling the sky with light. I sigh with relief, and then your head is on my shoulder and I could just cry... But I think I need a break from crying.

“You are not the worst man in this world... not even close,” I murmur. “Trust me, baby. If I have to spend the rest of my life convincing you of this, I will triumph. There will be no white flag, no surrender... and I will give no quarter.” I kiss your forehead, then lay my head against yours.

“I don’t know how we’re ever going to get back to the villa...” I muse. “I feel incapable of movement. We might be stuck here for a while... and some idiot with anger management issues destroyed the drinks...” Eyes narrowing, I spot a couple of unbroken bottles by the trunk of the tree.

“Jim...” I breathe. “I see beer... Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”

I crawl on the sand towards the beer, and head back to you on my knees, holding up the two bottles of beer.

“Victory!” I call out, and flop onto the duvet next to you. “I know it’s not your usual choice, but... I think we both really need this.” I twist off the caps, and hand you your bottle.

“What should we toast to, my beautiful love?"

 

 

_I smile at your silly antics. You always want to make me laugh..._

_I raise my beer. "A toast to the Tiger. The one man who could love the unlovable, assail the unassailable, eff the ineffable. Who was stupid and persistent enough to tear down the unbreakable walls around Jim Moriarty's heart with his bare hands. Who has a heart so big and strong that it survived being broken again and again and just kept on loving, straight through all the mighty defences I'd put up._

_You're absolutely mental, your mission impossible, but you only went and fucking did it, because that is what you do._

_I drink to you, my Sebastian."_

_I take a deep gulp from the fizzy bitter stuff. It's refreshing in my parched throat._

 

 

There's a growing lump in my throat as I listen to you... I pour some beer on it, and slowly feel it melt away.

"Only you could include 'stupid' and 'mental' in a toast and still have it come off as the sweetest thing ever..." I lean in and kiss you deeply. "Thank you, my darling... wasn't all me, though. When you came back... you were really coming back for me..." My voice wavers, and I have to pour more beer down my throat. "...despite explicit orders from your mind to stay a heartless bastard, I'm sure..."

I stroke your cheek and gaze at you in wonder as I think back to our fiery reunion. "Well, that explains how we were married by the next day... after the pre-nuptial Mexican standoff..." I sigh. "I'm still amazed we made it out of that alley alive.."

 

 

_"Heh..." I smile, thinking back. "I was so fucking angry at you... for making me *feel*, of course... I was going to kill you. Simple solution; no more Moran, no more love, no more feelings, no more weakness. And then - I just *couldn't*... I was standing there, shouting at myself - just shoot! Shoot, damn it! Shoot, you idiot! - and I just couldn't. So I decided to fix it by talking... fuck, that was tap-dancing on a razor's edge. You nearly shot me... nearly shot yourself... nearly walked away... so many nearlies. Also, what the *fuck* was I thinking shooting a head off your cock..." I giggle._

 

 

"Er, yeah... now that you mention it! I may have thought the same thing... 'What does this reprehensible wretch think he's _doing_?'" I say in my best posh voice, making you giggle again. "Scoundrel," I murmur, with half-closed eyes, leaning in to kiss you.

Holding your beloved face in both hands, I brush your lips with mine. "Mmm... feral kitten."

I smile at you. "Sorry to cock up your plans by being irresistible..."

 

 

_"Yeah, fuck you..." I muse, then shudder. Imagine I had actually shot you... I don't think I would have lived much longer, and definitely would have died rather wretchedly..._

_I block the thought. I haven't got where I am in life by spending too much time on 'what if I had's. Too many dark corners, and there are plenty there already._

_I snuggle closer to you. "I thought I was clever, but I was such an idiot... finding love and being too thick and damaged to understand what it was... trying everything in my power to break it... and it only grew, and the more it grew, the more horrible I became..." I shake my head at all the hurtful memories. "I'm so sorry Sebastian... I know I keep saying it, and I know you forgive me, and I know it's no use, but... I don't know what else to say."_

_I look at the sea, get up._

_"Let's get in... I want to wash this away..."_

 

 

"As you wish, my beloved..." I say fondly, and get up. The strength seems to have returned to my limbs, although I do still feel a bit wobbly.

I extend my hand to you. You take it firmly, and lead me to the sea.

As we walk across the sand, of course I'm reminded of the times we have already immersed ourselves in these salty waters... what traumas they've already cleansed, what rebirths they've witnessed...

the sea baptism when we first arrived when you gave me your name and we made our vows...

the purification we underwent after each of us shared our deepest wounds for the first time in our lives...

and now... releasing all of the torment and sorrow we both suffered leading up to your faked death and after...

and forgiving... which I've already done, but I'm starting to understand how it might not be accomplished in one fell swoop, however much I wish it. There are residual feelings to contend with - for both of us - and I think it might be an ongoing process, this forgiveness business...

and I'm also realizing that's OK.

 

We shed our clothes on the beach and walk until we're up to our knees, and our thighs, and our waists and our necks.

Then once again, your legs are around my waist, your hands around my neck, and my arms circle you strongly.

I smile at you, remembering.

"I want you to know something..." I say softly. "You really _are_ an idiot."

 

"Thanks ever so much. I think I _do_ know that..." you say drily, but your eyes are sorrowful.

 

"Shut up. I wasn't done. You're a very clever idiot, Jim Moriarty. But so am I! What good would it do either of us to be with someone who was oh-so-together, instead of spectacularly dysfunctional? Sounds unbearably dull to me... I assume you agree?"

You nod silently. I kiss you, look up at you.

 

"Maybe you need to stop demanding that you were someone different than you actually were. You were who you were, and I was who I was! We're different now. End of story. End of _that_ story, I should say. The new one began a while ago... when two hopeless idiots gave each other their marriage vows, for better or for worse... and cut their initials over their hearts. Who _does_ that?" I grin wildly. "Criminal psychopaths, that's who. I may not be a good person, but I think I'm worthy of love, just like you are. _No_ \- fuck that! I _know_ we are! And _fuck_ anyone who thinks otherwise... sanctimonious twats," I growl.

This gets a laugh out of you, and my heart grows when I see the sorrow lessen in your eyes. Your face is lighter now, here in the water. I stroke your cheek and grin at you.

 

 

_“You’re the wise man, I’m the fool...” I grin._

_“Yeah, well. What sane man could have spent a week in my presence and not run screaming? And as for you... lots of people want to be close to you... *very* close,” I growl, “but you’re too fucked up to be happy with that. No, you fuck and forget, because you know you’d get bored shitless - *except* when you meet an insane psycho incapable of love._

_Let me rephrase that - we’re both utter and complete fools...”_

 

_I lean back into the sea - again, like the times before, I feel the need to get clean, a cleanliness that only the sea can provide, this massive expanse of water which all life comes from, which contains uncharted depths... it’s a spiritual cleansing, and though I don’t believe in that shit, I need it now._

 

_I push myself from out of your arms._

_“Can you wash me?”_

 

 

"Of course, my darling... "

I brush my hands over your limbs and torso in firm sweeping strokes. I feel you sigh, and your muscles loosen.

When I'm finished, you do the same for me. I close my eyes, and tip my head back to feel the sun shine on my face as I feel careful strokes on my skin. I relax under your hands, which used to deliver such brutality... they still administer cruel, delicious pain in the bedroom, but now they also have a sweet, healing touch.

When your hands stop, I open my eyes to find you looking at me.

 

"And of course I bloody forgive you, Jim. God... to think it was all because you _loved_ me and just couldn't face your feelings! Well, I won't say I'm over it, or that I'll ever fully get over it... or that I'll never get mad at you about it... or throw it in your face if I'm feeling angry. But I think that's just - love. Stupid... imperfect... messy... beautiful... love. That's all we've got to give, really... so that's all we can demand from each other. But, I can promise you one thing..."

 

You're staring at me intently - so curious, so hungry for the answer... Oh, Kitten. Don't ever change.

 

"It's gonna be a hell of a ride, baby..." I give you a wicked smile, and your face lights up. I lean in and murmur. "And don't think I've forgotten I was promised I could spank you today. I assure you, I haven't."

Grinning, I pull you back towards me. "Do you want to stay in the water any longer?"

 

 

_With every stroke of your hands I feel the past be washed away, the sticky soot that has been tainting me for years dissolves in the salty water, removed by your strong magic hands. I hold my head underwater and you wash my face, my hair, every inch of me, until I am completely clean... reborn, again, in this sea, this sea which has relieved us from so much, which always seems to pull me in, be it blue like now, or the menacing grey of an overcast day, or the ferocious slate tipped with white heads of the night of the storm..._

_I'm really glad we bought this place. I think it's home more than any place has ever been. It's where we shed so much, shared so much, with this ever-changing sea as a constant witness and companion, always willing to take us in and cleanse yet another layer of grime from our tarnished souls..._

_A cloud drifts over, briefly darkening the water where we are standing, then moving on, for all the world as if sweeping our pollution out to open sea._

 

 

After lazily resting in the water for a while, touching and murmuring to each other, I finally take you by the hand and pull you with me to the shore. I scoop up our clothes, and sling an arm around you. We walk slowly across the sand.

We both look at the upturned cooler and bottles, and the broken glass, and keep walking past.

We rinse off in the outdoor shower, and soon we're kissing tentatively, almost shyly.

Well... that's new, I think wryly.

"I know what you mean about feeling like peeled shrimp..." I mutter, leaning against you. "I don't know about you, but I think I could sleep for a week."

Then I take your face in my hands, and kiss you deeply, longingly...

I look at you, water streaming down your face and body, and touch your cheek.

"How about you, baby?" I ask in a husky voice. "You want to lie down?"

 

 

_"Yes..." I say. "Feelings are *exhausting*... why do people *do* them!? No wonder I didn't need much sleep Before... I didn't spend nearly as much energy as normal people. Now I'm feeling, and it's naps every day... a lie-in every morning... except when a certain Tiger decides he is horny," I smile._

_You look so sweet with your wet hair plastered to your head, your chameleonic eyes light blue with a hint of green, your smile soft and gentle._

_You really do look like a burden has been lifted from you, like you are... lighter, somehow, your lines still there but less pronounced, your look without the echo of pain in it. There's still sorrow in your memories, of course there is, but it's not right there, stabbing me with a little needle of guilt every time I look at you._

_I lean against your chest, the water flowing over both of us, your arms around me, warm and strong. Your right hand reaches out and the flow of water stops. We step out of the shower holding hands, keep touching as we dry off slowly with towels warmed up by the afternoon sun, then walk indoors hand in hand._

 

 

As we walk into the house, I'm eyeing you... staring at your face, your arse, all of your naked body... I can't help it.

I'm exhausted too, but knowing what I know...

I kiss your hand, giving you a steamy look.

You give me your patented 'oh, Tiger' look back, and before I know it, I've scooped you up and I'm taking you to the bedroom.

"You said you were exhausted," I say innocently. "I like to be helpful..."

I carry you to the bed, and lay you down gently. "No agenda," I lie, smiling at you wolfishly. "We can just rest or nap, if you like..."

Covering your body with mine, I kiss you deeply.

"Whatever shall we do now?" I whisper in your ear, and nip your neck.

 

 

_"Sebastian Moriarty, I've never known you to not have an agenda. The points of order are inevitably sex, foreplay, sex, whisky, sex, fag, sex, food, sex, sleep, midnight sex, sleep more, morning sex, afterglow - did I miss any?"_

 

 

I pretend to be disgruntled. "A gross over-simplification... there should be a lot more afterglow and food... and I've been missing working out... I should order weights. After all, I have a birthday coming up, and I'm already being called _old man_..."

I glare at you, and you giggle. "You're not too old to be taken over my knee, my dear..." I say reproachfully, then my eyes widen. "Oh, of course... the spanking I was too impatient for this morning! How I should _love_ to redden that beautiful arse of yours... add that to my agenda, darling..."

 

 

_Am I in the mood for a spanking?_

_Actually, yes, I am. Surprisingly. Our session on the beach was *so* intense, but we seem to have left it behind... I too feel lighter, more relaxed, more - playful? In a pleasant, joyful way, rather than in my usual cat who is playing with a mouse way? Huh. Wonders will never cease. Not while you are around, anyway... my Boy Wonder._

_I recall the pleasant glow from last night - granted, I'd had a few drinks, but then I've had a beer now, on an empty stomach, so much of a muchness._

_"Show me what you got, Tiger..." I grin at you. Blue eyes grow large and dark - oh yes, I think we've come to the main point on the table..._

 

 

I see you considering this. Oh god, is it too soon? Will it feel like you're being punished for your past actions? I didn't mean -

But then - the invitation to proceed is granted, and you're grinning at me playfully.

I stare into your big, dark eyes, and a smile slowly spreads across my face.

"So. I spank you 37 times. You fuck me. I get to dig my hands into your sore, glowing arse. Is that the deal, my sweet Kitten?"

I sit up, extend my hand.

 

 

_"38," I remind you, take your hand and drape myself gracefully over your lap._

_It's good to do something innocent, playful, loving with you now. Feel your love, your strength, your hot hot body..._

_*smack* - "*Ow*!"_

_Oh yes. It's not just sweet and playful, it also hurts. You have hard hands, Tiger..._

_*smack*_

 

 

And here you are draped over my lap again... god, is there a sight more beautiful??

Unless it's your sleepy smile when you wake up in the morning...

Or your face in the throes of passion...

Or your eyes when you have me strung up and bleeding...

_Smack_

Oooh, got a little carried away there... you look at me with lofty indignation as only you can do, and I rub your bottom soothingly.

"Sorry, darling... you're _very_ hot..."

_Smack_

"And I'm finding it difficult to contain my excitement..."

_Smack_

"But however painful this is..."

_Smack_

"You know you're going to punish me for it tomorrow..." My voice gets husky.

_Smack_

"Aren't you, baby..."

_Smack_

"Mmm... say it..." I whisper gruffly.

 

 

_"Who says I'll wait till tomorrow?" I ask, between smacks, squirming slightly - you don't relent -_

_"I'll punish you whenever I want Tiger... you're mine..."_

_It feels kind of odd to say this whilst over your lap being spanked - but it's a truth universally acknowledged._

_Smack - smack - smack -_

_It's getting a bit hard to bear, but it's absolutely delicious the way the glow spreads when you hold up for a moment and stroke my bottom._

 

 

"Oh, I'm well aware I'm yours..." I purr. "Are you really going to punish me today, my impatient darling?"

I grin, and fondle your glowing pink arse.

"Well then... I'd better make it count."

I smack hard, and you scowl which makes me chuckle... and oh, am I going to pay for that...

"Fifteen!" I say brightly. "I don't see what you're glaring about... you did give me permission. And you get to fuck me in thirteen more smacks..."

_Smack_

"Make that twelve..." I grin at you. "God, I'm going to enjoy grabbing that beautiful arse..."

 

 

_"Twenty-two..." I can't help but say. Why did I say that? Because I am an insufferable know-it-all, and can't let a miscalculation lie, even if that means that I will get ten more smacks. Which I am enjoying, but also kind of want to stop. God, it must be hard being a masochist..._

_"Fifteen plus thirteen is twenty-eight."_

 

 

I snicker at that. "I never could do calculations in my head... except when it came to explosives, for some reason. Well, I would have gone from fifteen, so don't you worry... I would have got to thirty-eight just fine. But you just can't stop yourself from correcting a mistake, can you my beautiful genius?"

_Smack smack_

 

 

_Well, no. I am absolutely insufferable. When I was young kids used to beat me up for it, but I couldn't stop. Also, I worked out that I could a, ignore pain to a large degree, and b, outsmart them. They called it fighting mean - I called it fighting to win._

_One kid drowned. Tragic accident..._

_Meanwhile, my bottom is getting seriously hot - how many more?_

_"Twenty-two," you count._

_Bloody hell - 38 is a lot more than I thought..._

 

 

"I could use a smoke break... how 'bout you?" I grin, and rub your bottom gently.

 

 

_*Yes*-_

_A break - a nice break for the glow to spread and the desire for more to arise... also, a nice break to see my Tiger smoke (and have a few puffs myself)... I know it's a bad habit, but you are so sexy when you suck in that smoke..._

_"Yes - good idea, Tiger..." I concur, getting up awkwardly._

 

 

Aww... poor Jim...

so not used to this kind of pain...

I beam at you, and grab the smokes and ashtray from the bedside table.

I light up a fag, blow smoke up at the ceiling with pleasure.

"Maybe you want to stand for a few minutes?" I suggest helpfully. "We could go out to the patio..."

 

 

_"I'm not a shrinking violet, Tiger," I reply sharpishly, stretch, sit onto the bed. Not that bad. The duvet cover is soft and cool against my bottom._

_I look at you smoking, then hold out my hand, take the cigarette, take a drag. The glow is softly spreading, and we're both sporting promising semis._

_Suddenly, I'm a bit - shy? What the fuck, Moriarty? But - I don't know what to say. I am not used to this situation._

 

 

Contentedly, I watch you smoke. Hm. You're turned on, and you don't want to be treated like a precious object. Noted. But what else is going on with you... you're - unsure of what to do? Most unlike you... but given the enormity of what transpired today... understandable.

I reach out and you hand me back the cigarette. I take a drag, inhaling deeply.

"Remember back in London..." I say, holding in the smoke for a moment, and then blowing out a series of rings. "When we first went back to the flat after our romantic altercation in the alley? And things were totally fucking weird? Because we knew we had to establish a whole new dynamic, but... while you're in the process of doing that, it's like - you don't know who you are yet? Individually and as a couple?"

 

You look at me, perplexed. And a bit like I'm daft. And a bit like you're scared. "Yeah. Of course I remember..."

 

I take another drag, and raise an eyebrow. "I think we're there again, baby..." I blow smoke at the ceiling. "So here we are, in limbo again... But the good news is - we've done it once before, and everything turned out fine. More than fine. Are you worried, Jim? If you need to talk about what happened, we can... I just really needed a fucking breather. It really threw me..." I admit, looking at you intently. "Like, 'altered my entire perception of reality' threw me. How are you feeling?"

 

 

_I'm not too good with feeling in the first place, and now you want me to qualify it?_

_"A bit - odd..." I admit, taking the cigarette back. "Altered perception of reality sounds right. I feel - a bit like when you're drunk, or on drugs, and the world is different from usual - but without the drink and drugs. I feel - empty? But not in an unpleasant way. Just like in we released a load of shit and haven't refilled with new shit yet. And we don't know what the new shit's going to be. I'm - really glad but also very confused about what happened. The thing is - don't worry, I'm not going to go full guilt-trip again - but the thing is - I could always rely on my mind. My mind can't be addled, not by deception, not by drink, not by drugs, not by misconception - it's razor-sharp, and I *always* know - everything._

_Then to discover - repeatedly! - that I've been wilfully blind, deceiving *myself*, ignorant and stupid - it's - shocking, and disturbing. It means I am not who I always knew I was. It was hard enough to discover that I loved you, and always denied it, but to discover that I was *so incredibly misled* about my own motivations - meaning that I risked everything we are because of my own stubborn stupidity - that's - yeah. Disturbing."_

_I hand the cigarette back, snuggle close to you. I need the contact. Whatever is going to happen, I have no idea, but I need you here, and I need to touch you, or you might disappear... I had that same sensation back in London when we first got back together, felt exposed and bereft when we weren’t touching..._

 

 

I'm flooded with relief when you nestle against me, and I slide an arm around you possessively.

"I'll say it's disturbing... and you're not the only one. I had myself convinced I wasn't worthy of anything better, so I should just take whatever you gave me. God... we really are idiots. But look at what we grew up with. Is it any wonder we couldn't allow love into our lives?"

I take a long drag off my cigarette, feeling my eyes glint. I stub it angrily into the ashtray, relishing the sounds of sizzling and crushing.

"Quite honestly, I don't want to beat ourselves up about anything anymore. We've been through fucking _enough_. If we're going to blame anyone, maybe it should be the fuckers who got us all twisted in knots in the first place..." I say, my voice tight with anger. I look at you, searching your face for signs of agreement.

 

 

_You saying you thought you weren't worthy of anything better feels like sandpaper on chafed skin. I want to go back in time and throw myself at your feet exclaiming how incredibly perfect you are, how amazing, how beautiful, and that I'll give you the world. But I can't - and you're right, I shouldn’t beat myself up over that. I can *still* give you the world and throw myself at your feet - I shouldn't let guilt over not doing it sooner ruin that._

_But - "Blame the fuckers who got us all twisted in the first place? I don't know, Seb... some people go through all the stuff we go through and don't turn out twisted psychopaths. It's easy to blame my dad, blame my mam... but I was the guy who killed her, at twelve, at that, and I'd killed a boy before that... and I don't feel bad about *that one* at all. So what does that say about me? I mean, most people regard murder as a bad thing, are abhorred by it, and I never was. Does that mean I'm twisted? Fair enough, so be it. But that's not what I feel bad about - I'd kill every man, woman, and child on the planet and not feel bad about it."_

_What I feel bad about is how I treated you. Odd - so I do have the potential for empathy, but only with you. Interesting. Must be a side effect of love - I felt empathy with Georgie, and with mam…_

_"I think I was born pretty messed up. And whose fault is that? Mam's, for drinking and smoking through the pregnancy? Dad's, for beating her up? Their parents', for having *them* grow up in an environment where that was considered normal? Because if *I'm* not to blame for being a fucked-up psycho because of my upbringing, then we can't blame my parents either, because they had a fucked-up upbringing themselves, and then probably so had their parents... so who do we blame, Tiger? Adam and Eve for ruining Cain and Abel's childhood?"_

 

 

What? You killed a boy?

...

Wait, _what?_ You can't blame your parents??

 _You_. James Moriarty.

Really.

I squeeze my eyes shut briefly and shake my head to clear it.

"Seriously? To say I'm shocked to hear you say this is an understatement... all right. Maybe you had natural tendencies towards psychopathy. _Maybe_. But everything you went through at such a young age? You're not going to blame your father for coming out twisted?"

I run my hands through my hair. "Well. I don't know what my natural tendencies were, and I don't know how I would have turned out without my fuckhead father gunning for me from as far back as I can remember. You know what one of my earliest memories was? At age five, I had to attend my great-grandfather's memorial. All the Morans were going to be there, all self-important and contemptuous. I got bored of the stuck-up, bratty kids, and went outside in the garden before anyone had realized it. There I was in a suit, playing with toy soldiers. A couple of the older kids must have seen me and snuck outside - they demanded to play too, and I let them - until one of them started throwing the soldiers in the koi pond. And bullying me when I tried to get my soldiers out. Well, he ended up in the koi pond himself, with a bloody nose.

And I got blood on my suit. When I got hauled into the house by my nanny, along with the weeping kids, my father gave me the most disgusted look. Said something like, 'I suppose he takes after my wife's side of the family; God help us... I wanted him to help run the country, not do the dirty work himself..." And everyone laughed, but they looked at me so scathingly, like I was such a disappointment. Jesus. I was five.

But that didn't stop him from coming up to my room before bed, smacking me across the face and screaming at me that I had ruined the memorial... and if I ever pulled a stunt like that again I'd be shipped off to boarding school. I didn't sleep a wink that night... I was afraid I'd wake up and be hauled into a car with suitcases.

After that... it's like he took me on as his pet project to harass and harangue... to not embarrass him, to not drag the family name through the mud, to act like a bloody lord and not a savage... until before long, I snapped. And stopped caring. Except about things that could make me feel _something_ \- adrenaline highs, violence, petty crime... and then sex, eventually. Anyway - maybe I was a bad seed too to turn out the way I did. I'll never know. But you better believe I blame Augustus Moran for the way my life turned out... because I can trace back every step I took as a reaction to my childhood. And my grandmother was lovely. So fuck him. Because I'm not finished with him yet..." I hear myself growl, and blink in surprise.

 

 

_Wait._

_Wait Moriarty, you were being stupid. Again._

_There I was musing about psychology and heredity, looking at it all from a theoretical perspective, not thinking about Sebastian - will you stop not thinking about how you make Sebastian feel? Everything you've done wrong can be summarized by you not thinking about how you make Sebastian feel._

_"Sebastian - no - I was just thinking about me. You're - as any of our associates will tell you, you're the sane one. *Anyone* would rather meet Sebastian Moran than Jim Moriarty. Even people who have no idea who we are, like Gus. Anyway. *I'm* fucked up, through birth or circumstance or both. *You* are not. You're sweet and loving and smart and strong. Your dad did everything he could to make you into a perfect replica of himself, but you have a strong personality and managed to withstand him by being your own self. The violence, petty crime, sex... that's all pretty normal teenage behaviour._

_You didn't get messed up until - what he did. That broke your heart, made you feel you didn't deserve happiness, that all you were worth was someone as fucked up and unavailable as me. Thank you for that by the way - I'd never have become my current happy sweet loving self without that. Or even have survived this long. But._

_What I'm saying is - I was pretty fucked up ever since the beginning. I did... pretty fucked up things as a child. I'd take things apart to see how they worked, and that didn't stop at inanimate objects. I killed that boy when I was ten. Would none of that have happened, would I have turned out different if I'd had a pleasant childhood? Who knows. I'm not saying I don't blame my dad - he's a monster and I'll happily kill him any day of the week. I'm just not saying he's entirely responsible for the monster that is James Moriarty. Just like he's not entirely responsible for the genius that is James Moriarty. I am who I am, and except for what I did to you, and to mam, I don't regret anything._

_You however - you didn't do anything wrong. Your dad killed your love and you didn't even kill *him* - just cut him off. You became the perfect killing machine, went into the service of the perfect crime lord - all that was wrong with you was that you allowed him to treat you like shit, and as it turns out, that was not such a stupid move after all._

_Everything that's gone wrong between us was *my* fault Sebastian. *I* am fucked up, but I'm magnificent as well, so it kind of balances out. *You* are – only magnificent, and a little bit fucked up because of stuff that *happened*, not because of who you are.”_

 

 

I ruffle your hair. "You know... _some_ might say that being the killing machine of a crime lord is pretty fucked up and perhaps not entirely sweet and loving. You're seeing things from the perspective of a psychopathic genius - and from your vantage point, I'm not so fucked up. But I think most of the world would disagree. When I torture people for you, it's satisfying. Killing people for you is satisfying. Just because I'm not as bad as you, doesn't mean I'm not bad..."

I pause for a moment. "I feel like I've lost track of my point. Just saying I'm more than a little fucked up, so maybe there are tendencies in me, too. I always enjoyed violence. Think of that stupid kid in the koi pond with a bloody nose... By the way, he's a cabinet minister now, the little shit..."

I look at you, grinning.

"That was my first memory of violence - and I enjoyed it. A lot. But would I have turned out differently if dear old dad hadn't been in the picture? Yes, I believe so. Anyway, here's where we ended up, and I'm just happy I found you. Weird to think if we'd had nice childhoods, we might have met under very different circumstances... Professors at the same university? I'd be teaching history; you'd be an astrophysics genius. And we'd both have a secret dark side. I'm not sure how we'd meet..." I muse. "Maybe... I notice a cute prof at a cafe as I'm hitting on some random woman... and then he spills his iced coffee on her to get her out of the way? She clears off in a huff, conversation ensues. Cut to us hooking up. Cut to us falling in love. Cut to us discovering each other’s secret dark sides, and then running off and getting married."

I wrap my arms around you and kiss you. "But being bad-ass bad guys hiding out in Mexico is fun, too," I whisper, grinning.

 

 

_"I don't care about what *some* people think. I know my moral compass isn't quite pointing true north - I don't care. People are idiots and morality determined by circumstance - have you ever read De Sade? He's got some good bits about that. About other stuff too, of course," I grin._

_"Yeah, alright, you're probably more violent than the average person. But it fits your career choices._

_So what is the definition of being fucked up? Who knows. Regardless, we've *definitely* been *badly* fucked over by our respective dads, and I suggest when we get back to Europe we have a romantic tour of revenge... You can kill mine and I'll kill yours... or something better, I've given it some thought..."_

 

 

I raise my head from where it rests against your shoulder and gape at you.

 _Romantic tour of revenge_??

My heart slams in my chest. It feels like my entire life has been leading to this moment, and I so did not see it coming...

I take a deep breath.

"You mean it?" I say slowly. "What - what's something better??"

 

 

_"Tiger!" I say, hurt. "When did you ever hear me say something I didn't mean?!"_

_I lie down on the bed, pull you with me, hold your hand as I stare at the ceiling._

_"Well - your dad's in the House of Lords, right? And damn proud of it - he loves holding forth on how important both houses of parliament are for a true democratic process, bla bla bla-" I can feel you tensing at this invocation of your dad's habits - don't worry Tiger, it's going to be good..._

_"So, wouldn't it be much funnier if instead of simply killing him, we... made him blow up Parliament?"_

_I turn around to look at you - I want to see your face._

 

 

I throw back my head and laugh. "Yeah, that would be funny, alright..."

I stroke your cheek. "My adorable little miscreant... that's a great idea... we'll just blow up parliament and get _my dad_ to do the dirty work."

You sigh and look at me, patiently but with growing exasperation.

"You are... joking, aren't you..." I'm sure you are. You must be...

 

 

_"Sebastian..." I shake my head, feigning disappointment, secretly relishing the chance to surpass your imagination._

_"Would I joke about something like this? It's simple - have you never thought about how *you* would go about blowing up Parliament if you were Guy Fawkes?"_

_Your perplexed look tells me that that is not a particular daydream you've indulged in._

_"Well. It's perfectly simple. There's a tube tunnel under the Houses of Parliament - was half built, then discontinued. Any people trying to get there would have to jump onto the tracks at an existing tube station and thus raise the alarm - but a friendly tube driver might easily be persuaded to *drive* in there and back - maybe leaving a carriage behind, with, say, a goodly amount of explosives, ready to go off when he's safely out of harm's reach._

_Now - I wouldn't dream of doing that, of course. Way too proud of our beautiful democracy. But your father..."_

_I shake my head sadly, making sure to record your rapt and disbelieving expression on the hard drive._

_"... when he was in Korea, he traded some military secrets, in exchange for reasonably substantial funds. Nothing *too* major, but his career would have been ruined, and he'd have faced imprisonment, if it had got out. By dumb chance, the Second Secretary of the Embassy found out, and confronted your father, hoping to get some financial gain himself. However, Lord Moran got furious - you know his temper - and clubbed the guy over the head with a fire poker. Stone dead._

_He's a dull man, your dad, but necessity is the mother of inventiveness, and he managed to make the death look like an accident - took the body to a mountain path, let it fall into a river. It was monsoon season, so it was swept away, and by the time they found it, all they could work out was that the cause of death had been head trauma - he must have fallen and hit his head, or maybe a rock had come loose and landed on his head, causing him to drop into the river._

_Your dad came back to his locked office, cleaned every trace of blood, and everything was A-OK - except that he couldn't find the poker that he'd used. Couldn't find it anywhere. Turned his office inside out - it was and stayed gone._

_No one *else* ever found it, fortunately for him. Would be a shame if anyone got hold of it, with the blood of the victim and his fingerprints still on it..."_

 

 

I was already flummoxed by your plan to _blow up Parliament_... but then you start talking about my father _selling military secrets_...

 

and killing someone to cover it up...

 

and _you know all the details..._

 

and _have the murder weapon_!!

 

My mouth is hanging open by the time you wrap up your plan, looking pleased as punch.

 

"Jim - " I say hoarsely. "Jim, _Jim_... are you saying you have a _murder weapon_ that implicates my _father_? Not only in a murder but selling fucking military secrets?? When - were you planning on telling me this?!"

I'm not sure how I feel about this, other than shock and utter disbelief.

 

 

_"Well - you know me - I was planning on telling you this when it would have the maximum effect. It would appear that is now."_

_I am *so glad* I saved this particular trump card._

_"I don't *personally* have the murder weapon - I wish I could take the credit, this was really an excellent manoeuvre, but I was just establishing my empire in London at the time your dad was in Korea, and my web didn't *quite* reach that far yet - but I know who has it, and have secured exclusive rights to purchase it, if and when I so desire._

_He approached me... I'm sure he's positive he has identified my ‘pressure point’, and I'm sure he's right... but seeing as I pay very well, and we have thus far never clashed, and my pressure point is the second most dangerous man in the world... I don't really see it as a weakness."_

 

 

My eyes feel like saucers... my mind is remarkably quiet.

"You know who has the weapon... and he knows you, and _your weakness_?"

My heart starts to pound. "Jim..." I say urgently. "He knows you're alive? Could he be potentially dangerous to you?"

Right, I need to consider myself now too... for your overall well-being. "To us?"

My heart flips in my chest. Us... us _us_...

Thoughts of my stupid father fall to the wayside.

We must remain unassailable... _by any means necessary_...

 

 

_"No - oh, good point," I realize._

_"He *doesn't* know I'm alive - shouldn't, anyway, you never know with that snake - so that *does* mean he would be free to sell Lord Moran's poker to others. He hasn't, and I don't think it's an item that's in particularly high demand, but yes, exclusive rights do not extend beyond death, I would think._

_As to dangerous - no. He deals in information, not death. Now *if* he knows I'm alive, he also knows that if anyone would give him money for this information, I would give him twice as much not to reveal it - a bit like Bronn and Tyrion. He'd be able to get in touch if he wanted - which he hasn't, so I'll assume he doesn't know I'm alive - it would be too tempting to let me know otherwise. He loves showing off how smart and well-informed he is._

_Finally, knowing my weakness - I would think most of criminal Britain knows who my weakness is," I grin a fierce grin at you. "The only problem is - my weakness is also my greatest strength, and getting to my *weakness* would cost more than any of them are willing to pay. Much better to keep both me and my weakness friendly..." I stroke your stubbly jaw._

 

 

"Welll... I think they'd think of me as your sexy dangerous pet, more than anything. But one you have a twisted fondness for, I suppose... we did make them wonder, didn't we?" I gaze at you, remembering. I picture us stalking off to an alley after a job, and reappearing mussed up and smirking. God, we were mental... but for once, thinking of the past doesn't bring a surge of pain.

But I don't have time to marvel at that, as other thoughts are crowding in for my attention. Who is this snake who got his hands on my idiot father's _murder weapon_? I don't like the sound of him... how do I keep him the fuck away from Jim?

"So... if you make an offer for the murder-poker, you won't reveal your identity?" I ask, fretting. "You'll just make an offer on behalf of an alias?"

 

 

_"Aw, my sweet Tigger, don't fret..."_

_You're so sweet... worried about my safety, always, even after I've just given you your father to do with as you please on a silver platter..._

_"If your dad's poker is up for sale, I'll know. I sincerely doubt it will, I don't think many people are interested in blackmailing your father. If someone shows an interest, you can bid for it - you're not supposed to be dead, it's entirely likely you'd want it for whatever reason, and it's not impossible that I'd told you about it. So there's no reason to fear exposure for me."_

 

 

"OK..." I say, my body letting go of its tension.

I still have to process this information, though... this insane _plan_.

I stare off for a long moment, a stream of memories washing over me...

I remember him hitting me...

I remember the times he made my mother and me feel like shit with his red-faced yelling and condescension...

I remember his utter contempt for me and David, and then complete lack of caring when David died... and his clear distaste for my grief.

I slowly raise my eyes to yours.

"This moment has been a long time coming..." I say softly. "It's time his Lordship gets what he deserves..."

 

 

_Yes... that's the man I know and love. The angry man. The man who hates. The man who will never forgive._

_I never cared much for your father, but I never knew why you loathed him so much, before you told me about David. I thought it might have been teenage quarrels - I knew Lord Moran was a bigoted hothead - suspected he'd beaten you, and, well, he's an unpleasant enough character that you hating him didn't surprise me. But now I know what he did -_

_Death would be too swift. Too kind._

_"We can use the poker as leverage to get him to blow up parliament. I'll give him the tools, the contacts - he'll hardly risk discovery. Then it's up to you, Tiger, whether you'd prefer him to get caught or not - either could be torturous, and you might want to save your Nan and mum the shame - or figure they're better off without the arse._

_He's yours, Tiger. Whatever you want to happen to him - this, or something else entirely - I'll make it happen. I promise you."_

 

 

"There's a lot to decide..." I say hesitantly. "I'm not sure yet. But there's one thing I do know..."

I feel my eyes glint, and you smile at me fiercely in response.

"He's gonna fucking know it's me. And when we tell him, I want to see his face," I growl.

"Hey Dad!" I say cheerfully. "Guess what! I got married! And my husband wants to say hello..."

Glowering, I swipe up my pack of cigarettes and light one. "I need a drink... you, Jim? I'll get us drinks..."

Naked, with a cigarette dangling from my lips, I storm out to the kitchen.

 

 

_You seem - not universally delighted._

_I am a bit miffed - I'd been *saving* this - but - I guess talking about your dad always makes you angry, even when it's about how we're going to take revenge._

_I have to say the introduction sounds good. I'd love to see that homophobic twat get into a tizzy about his son getting married. I could play a sweet twinky fag, exactly the kind of person Lord Moran thinks of when he pictures filthy homosexuals and their effeminate ways... see if I can get him to be rude... and then reveal my true identity. I can't help but grin at the thought of the look on his face when he realizes his son's fairy queen is in fact Jim Moriarty..._

 

 

I pour you a rum and coke, and a whisky for me, then take a drag off my cigarette.

Oh, who am I kidding... we're talking about my father, and I'm going to stop at one drink?? Glowering, I tap ash into the bin. OK, I need to not take out my surliness on you. After all, you're arranging this for me, which is _so thoughtful_ of you... so calm the fuck down, Seb. Go show your appreciation for your sweet husband, Seb. I tuck the bottle under my arm, and stride back into the bedroom - a glass in each hand, and a cigarette hanging from my lips.

I hand you yours, place mine and the bottle on the bedside table, and rest the cigarette in the ashtray.

Then kneeling on the bed, I take your face in my hands and kiss you passionately.

"You really know the way to a psycho boy's heart, don't you..." I murmur, and kiss you again.

 

 

_"Yup... put a knife here, and push..." I smile, putting my fingers on my initials on your chest._

_"Look, Seb... I'm sorry, I'm not good with... stuff. I know your dad is a *very* sore subject. So - I don't know if you'd like to talk more about how we're going to realize your beautiful revenge, or if you'd rather we shut up about him and just finish the spanking and fuck._

_I just want to say - I'm up for either. Or whatever else you want. OK? I love you," I finish helplessly. How do normal people do this talking about feelings?_

 

 

"Ohh, we can talk about my beautiful revenge soon enough..." I eye you hungrily, and feel myself growing hard. "… _after_ the spanking and fuck..."

I pull you up so we're facing each other, kneeling on the bed. "But I will say the thought of introducing you to him... even by Skype... makes me so _deliriously happy_ , I'm beside myself. Because I _know_ you're going to make an impression that he won't soon forget..." I grin at you ferally, eyes blazing. “I'm so retribution-horny at this moment, baby. You get your gorgeous arse over here, so I can spank it... I'm _dying_ for you to fuck me, my mad, beautiful genius...”

I sit back against the headboard, pat my thigh, and make a flirtatious ‘come here’ gesture with my head.

 

 

_"Oh, we shouldn't do it via Skype... I would love to meet him in person... you know my acting is best appreciated when experienced up close and personal..." I say, as I scoot closer to you, lie down with my hips on your thighs. Your hand strokes my buttocks, reminding me of what we were doing before we got distracted... mmm..._

 

 

"Ohh, in person would be so much more satisfying... and I can just _imagine_ what kind of performance you're going to give..." I snigger, stroking your soft white skin. "In fact, don't tell me what you're planning. I'll just enjoy the ride..." I purr.

"Just like I'm going to enjoy the fuck out of the ride you're going to give me... 16 spanks was it?"

_smack_

"Make that 15..."

_smack smack smack_

"12. Oh, baby... your arse is to die for.." I groan, fondling you as I admire the pink glow of your bottom.

 

 

_Oh, yes... that's it... it does feel extra good after a break... my arse is already tender, and the slaps don't hurt so much as... titillate..._

_I moan softly at your hard hand making contact with my buttocks... your large hand, alternating, making me glow... and eh - grow..._

_Damn, I always thought spanking was like whipping for soft people... I didn't realize it could be so pleasant. I'm definitely going to make you do this more often..._

_And judging from the nudging against my hip, you're enjoying the experience too. There we go - jaded psycho criminals discover the joys of vanilla spanking..._

 

 

I look down at you as you moan. Oh, you're enjoying yourself, which makes my heart and erection swell.

But let's see how you like just a tiny bit more edge...

"You like it when I treat you like a dirty little tramp?" I growl, and smack you - hard. "Or are you just going to take it out on my arse when I'm done?"

 

 

_Careful there, Tiger..._

_I’m up on your lap like a striking serpent, my hand on your neck._

_“I enjoy the spanking. But you do not. Ever. Call me a little tramp. I’m James Moriarty, I’m your god, and regardless of occasional indulgences, you’d do best to remember that, Sebastian.”_

_I push... a little..._

 

 

Well. That answers that. I knew it was potentially dangerous... but my father sets me off on such a deep level, I didn't care about the risk.

I feel the beginnings of a feral grin, but - _no_.

Damage control, Seb - _now_.

"Sorry, Sir..." I say, my voice straining. "It's not an excuse, but thinking of my father... it takes me to a dark, reckless place. And I didn't want you to get bored, so I tried something new. Miscalculated, clearly. I'm deeply sorry, Sir... and at your mercy as always."

I stare at you intently. "You are absolutely my god, James Moriarty..."

 

 

_Oh fuck - wrong move. I thought you were playing around in bed, finding what I liked - and I may have overreacted a bit. I just - do *not* do well with insults. As a score of dead people could tell you. Some of them killed by *you*, in fact, since you don’t do well with insults to me either._

_“I’m sorry, Tiger...” it almost comes naturally now, this apology thing._

_“I wasn’t - as usual, I was thinking of myself only. If you - want to go darker - I may be up for that...”_

_I look at you, assessing._

 

 

I relax slightly as I feel your grip loosening. "No need to apologize, my darling... I took a calculated risk, and it didn't pan out. But you know I didn't mean it, right?" I look at you with concern. "It's just one of those stupid sexy things people say. You don't like it, I won't say it again..."

I slide an arm around your waist, and press my cheek against yours. "Darker?" I murmur. "I'm not sure I trust my judgement when I'm feeling this way... I've already gone too far once. But you know what I'd like?" I whisper in your ear. "Maybe I'd enjoy my Kitten smacking me for what I said... _hard_."

 

 

_“I’ve never seen what’s sexy about insults... I don’t use them on you - would you like me to?”_

 

 

I shrug. "They don't actually feel like insults to me, it's more like a shared code for an effect... But I wouldn't want you to use them on me, if you don't like them... what's the point? It should be enjoyable for you, too. So... don't you want to smack me, baby?"

 

 

_“One thing at a time, impatient Tiger,” I grin. “First work out the theory, then move on to practice._

_Yeah, I don’t see the appeal. If I’d call you something demeaning, that would negate your value, and as you’re my property, that would be bad strategy. I’d rather see your full magnificence... majestic Tiger, elite assassin, handsome sex god - on his knees before me... much more attractive than some dirty little tramp under my heel._

_Is that what you called me? Dirty little tramp?”_

_I stare into your eyes, making mine glint like steel._

 


	7. You and Me Against the World

I'm relieved to see you smiling. We're clearly not seeing eye to eye on this name-calling business... to me, it's not demeaning at all if both parties have that understanding. Just like BDSM - many people would consider that demeaning - especially at the level we engage in it! But really it just comes down to using agreed-upon, codified behaviour, dynamics and equipment to get your rocks off. I'm opening my mouth to tell you this - not because I care about doing it, but I really want you to understand that I meant nothing derogatory by it - when you ask, _Is that what you called me? Dirty little tramp?_

And my mouth snaps shut as I hear _that voice_ , and see _those eyes_...

_Moriarty._

_He's here_.

My heart begins to race. My eyes widen. I lick my lips. "Yes... Sir..."

 

 

_“Really..._

_Now, tell me, Tiger... what would *you* do if someone called me a dirty little tramp?” I ask._

 

 

Shit...

That's not fair, Jim... but then, when have you ever been interested in fair?

"Since anyone _other_ than me would likely be saying it in a derogatory way..." I say calmly and carefully. "I would annihilate them. Painfully. In theory if you had mates like I did who called each other worse things in jest, that would be a different story... but you're not me, and I should have remembered that... Sir."

 

 

_I grin. "Good answer, Tiger... nicely qualified. So maybe I won't actually annihilate you painfully. I'll just stick with the painfully, shall I?"_

_Hmmm... what to do... what does my sweet bad Tiger need after a morning like we've had..._

_You're looking at me, eyes large, mouth slightly open, breath shallow, head tilting just a little back in surrender to my will. But unlike Before, my will is primarily to make you feel good, Tiger... and I wish I had a bit more of a manual. But I'll do my best... and keep a close eye on you._

_I move back a little, look into your eyes, then slap your face._

_Left - right - left._

 

 

No annihilation. OK. I suppress a massive sigh of relief - I safely navigated a field of landmines, but I'm not out of range of weapons yet...

You're staring at me, taking your time deciding what to do to me, and enjoying it. This is familiar terrain... this is _exciting_ terrain...

Sharp pain explodes as your hand cracks across my face suddenly, and again, and _again_...

Damn... that's better than a jolt of caffeine. I tongue the corner of my lip where I feel throbbing and a trickle of blood, and a feral grin breaks free before I can attempt a contrite expression.

I look down, but all I can manage is a sly smile. Well, I can't exactly hide that I enjoyed that, can I?

" _Oh_... _thank_ you, Sir..." I murmur, and look up at you through my lashes.

 

 

_Ah, you liked that, did you? Good._

_I grab your neck again, put my face close to yours._

_"Someone needs a reminder of who's in charge here, it seems?"_

 

 

I breathe in sharply when you grab my neck.

I stare into your eyes, huge, black, and mesmerizing.

Yeah. Just. Fucking. _Own me_...

"I think... someone knows very well who's in charge..." I swallow around your hand holding my throat. "And longs to be in his full magnificence on his knees before him that makes the rules... him that makes the bloody sun rise and fall... him that keeps the earth spinning in its fucking orbit... if my all-powerful dark lord wishes it."

I gaze at you, my breath catching in my throat.

 

 

_Ohhh, someone is in a Mood..._

_I can’t say it doesn’t affect me, to hear those words. They’re like someone rubbing lotion into my soul._

_“On your knees, then,” I breathe, moving off you._

 

 

I swing my legs around, and kneel on the floor facing you where you sit.

Here we go... such a _hell_ of a day, careening through territory we didn't understand, utterly terrified of where we'd end up...

and where we ended up is _here_ \- you above me, and me on my knees.

All is as it should be...

relief surges through me, and I exhale slowly. Unbidden I rest my cheek against your thigh.

Then I breathe deeply, kneel at attention, and stare up at you in adoration.

 

 

_Oh my sweet, sweet Tiger..._

_We've come such a long way... from that bewildered first night, when we had no clue how to be together, where I panicked, so afraid I'd get it wrong... where you were thrown between strong emotions and didn't know how to process them... to now, where you just *asked* me to treat you rough, knowing I will not go too far, knowing it will be good for both of us... where you feel comfortable laying your cheek against my thigh, just because you feel the desire for contact, without having to think about whether I will approve or not, because you know I will, because you know I love you..._

_I lay my hand on your cheek, stroke it. My fingers stand out in angry red. I move my head down, kiss your mouth, taste your blood._

_"I love you, Tiger..." I murmur. "I love you so much..." I pull back, stroke your jaw, look at you fondly._

_"I'm going to whip you until you bleed."_

 

 

"I love you too, my beautiful dark lord..." I breathe as I look up at you. It feels like a cloak of darkness has settled over us, and over the room... I think it's only mid-afternoon... I don't know. I've lost all track of time.

We are beyond time...

We are timeless.

We have entered the dark realm, and I did not see it coming.

"I am here for your pleasure, Sir... and my blood is yours to spill."

Darling...

Dark Lord...

 _JIM_.

 

 

_Oh god Tiger... my love, my sweetheart... my lamb so willingly running to the slaughter..._

_You need this, somehow - some sort of catharsis. That's fine, my love... I'm more than happy to provide..._

_I take your hands, stand up, pull you up with me. Embrace you. I need you close... just for a bit... your strong, beloved body, feeling your arms around me, mine around you... your skin, so smooth, except where the scars interrupt the flow. I raise up my head, see you looking at me. I have to blink to keep tears from appearing. I - feel - so much..._

_I lift my mouth towards yours, and we kiss._

 

 

You pull me up to standing and wrap your arms around me.

The coolness of your skin settles against me, and I almost moan at the contact.

You seem so profoundly moved... which of course has me tumbling more deeply into a euphoric state. You're kissing me and I want you, _I want you_...

WhipMeCutMeMakeMeBleed...

“Please...” I whisper, and rest my head against your shoulder.

 

 

_My Tiger... my love... you are so deep already... what's going on in that big sweet complex heart of yours? Whatever, I'll try to follow wherever you need me, I'll try to deliver whatever you need, and god, I couldn't be different from what I was like Before, could I?_

_But I'm not all altruism and caregiving... I want this as well, and in a way, need it... Once again, our relationship has shifted, we're in a kind of limbo, though a less frantic and scary limbo than we were._

_I kiss your hands, whisper, "Wait here," and head to the cupboard. I get out a rope and cuffs, put the cuffs around your wrists, pull the rope through them, and throw it over one of the decorative yet sturdy beams running underneath the ceiling in the corner of the room. Good architect... I wonder if he was similarly inclined to me. There are an awful lot of convenient places to tie up Tigers... I pull the rope tight._

_You're standing, your hands tied over your head, your eyes already closed. A Renaissance artist could have used you to paint a beautiful martyr... the most magnificent Saint Sebastian ever seen..._

_I look through the whips, but I'm already decided, really - the bullwhip. The one I lashed you with after our baptism in the sea... so long ago... I'll have to mind the lamps, but overall the bedroom is roomy enough to allow for a good whipping. And your back is crying out for one... the beautiful curve, the sinuous muscles..._

_I breathe in, take up my stance. Lash the whip down onto your back._

 

 

You're being so gentle, so loving, especially considering what you're about to do... one more thing that's changed in our relationship.

I watch as you expertly make your preparations... God, I love to watch your work... but once you get going, it's a little hard to focus.

Then I find my eyes closing as I'm strung up... a tremor of excitement moves through me. My eyes open and my breath hitches when I see you select the bullwhip. You are not playing around...

 _Good_.

I adjust my muscles, breath in deeply.

I love you, Jim...

so...

much...

 

_Lash_

I gasp and my mouth hangs open. _Fuck_ me that hurts...

again, baby...

again...

 

 

_You’re so far gone already, my love..._

_Wait for me..._

_Your gasp, your face contorting in pain... so incredibly beautiful... but it’s making me want to run up and hug you and save you from the pain - well that is new - come on Moriarty, he wants it, he needs this... look at his face - enraptured, his body moving in readiness for the next lash..._

_*again*_

_Another stripe, under the previous one..._

_A moan..._

_... and I’m getting back into it, into this dance we have been dancing since the beginning of time... the supple waves of the whip, an extension of my arm, undulating through the air, until the beat, the moment of impact, felt ricocheting to my body, connecting us through pain._

_Your gasps, moans, groans, narrating your journey to me, your trip to your dark lord’s realm, so your dark lord knows where to aim next, how to step in our dance so we can travel together, in our intricate pas de deux, deeper and deeper..._

_It’s still sunny outside, but this light room has transformed, it’s a dark cave, smelling of fire and blood and pain, it’s a place we know and love so well, my Sebastian..._

 

 

It's been such a day...

 _such a hell of a day_...

I'm feeling the cumulative effects of the wild careening we've done from one emotion to another...

they've been bubbling up to the surface slowly, and this close call with making you upset, even if you weren't really upset, even the _thought_ that I could think anything insulting about you... finally cracks my control and pushes me over the edge.

and in the end this is the only thing that makes me feel safe, in such an intense state... being under _your_ power, _your_ control.

 _your realm_...

Nothing's up to me in your realm...

I'm all yours, my beautiful dark angel...

One lash, and another, and another...

I moan, and gasp, and moan, and gasp...

I pull sharply against the restraints, under your lovingly cruel lashes.

"God... yes... you're so - beautiful..." I groan.

 

 

_"As are you, my love... you're so beautiful like this, writhing, moaning... I never love you more than when you are shackled and groaning under my whip..."_

_I know this dance so well. Your fingers, clenching on the rope or on the thin air. Your eyes, screwing shut, and when they open, large and dark and far away. Your mouth, grimacing, moaning, gasping. Your legs, mostly standing still, though sometimes moving up when a lash is particularly painful. And your voice, your beautiful voice, ranging from soft moans to full-blown groans, and then expressing your feelings, in a manner as if you are not quite aware of what you are saying, as if words form from your heart without your brain interfering..._

_Your back is covered in red stripes, and I start aiming lower, your buttocks, your thighs..._

_Lash._

_Lash._

_Lash._

_I start losing myself into the dance as well - and this is it, this is what we aim for, this dual nirvana where we push each other higher, spiralling upward together, floating in ecstasy..._

 

 

God, it's so right to be here, helpless under your control, your whip...

I'm moaning so loudly as you lash me, my cock is swollen, and I'm immersed in _DarknessPainJIM_ , and I want you, I want you...

 _Fuuuuuck_...

"I _want_ you, Sir... so fucking much..."

I shouldn't be growling at you. I shouldn't. But I'm burning with desire for you now, as your lashes rain down on my flesh, and I can't hold back any more.

You faked your death to get away from your feelings for me...

You returned back from the grave because you couldn't stay away from me...

Suddenly the most important thing in the entire universe is to be pressed against your flesh... to be _taken_ by you...

"I fucking need you, Sir... please..." I beg, my voice rough and husky. " _Please_..."

 

 

_*Yes*-_

_I need you too, my love... I *need* you, like I always have, whether I admitted it or not - and I need to be *close* to you; as close as I can; and I need to possess you, the reaffirmation of our relationship, the confirmation of who we are._

_I drop the whip - normally I wouldn’t dream of taking directions from you on how I use you, but this is a special case..._

_I embrace you from behind, your lashed body glowing against mine, and I murmur “I love you... I love you, Tiger, so much... always... always mine... as I’m always yours... and always have been...”_

_I undo the cuffs, kiss your hands, guide you to the bed, lay you down on your back. Your eyes are huge, dark blue pools that I’m drowning in... I need to be inside you, inside your body, your mind, your heart, your soul..._

_I lube you and myself, guide myself to your entrance..._

_“Sebastian... my love, my husband...”_

_My voice is unsteady, as I stare into your eyes, as I move into you._

 

 

God, I’ve been so careful about how I speak when I’m under your power, making sure not to say things that pass through my mind like ‘take me’, ‘own me’, ‘OhGodOhGodFuckMe’... but I just couldn’t hold back any more...

it doesn’t seem to trouble you, the way you’re telling me how much you love me, how you’re mine... unshackling me, lying me down, and entering me.

“I’ve never wanted you more...” I murmur. “Never needed you more...”

Jim... god... you’ve always been mine?

I stare back at you in amazement. “My beautiful love...mine,” I whisper, and begin to move with you.

 

 

_"I'm here, Tiger, I'm yours - always yours. Like you are always mine. Always us, Tiger... We are symbiotic. And I'm so sorry for all I did, but it's gone... it's over... I'll never hurt you again, Sebastian... not on purpose," I whisper as I move inside you slowly... carefully..._

_So hot... so good... such love..._

_It's overwhelming me, and it's overflowing, tears are leaking from my eyes, and I kiss you, assure you it's alright, it's all good, it's just love... just so much fucking love... it's like everything I've been holding back all these years is coming back with a vengeance, overpowering me, and all I can do is go with the flow, because if I don't, I'll drown._

_"My love... my Sebastian..."_

 

 

Looking up into your wet black eyes, feeling you move inside me, I know that something significant has shifted for us... Before The Talk, I was afraid on a fundamental level - that this was temporary, that you might revert back to the way you were, that however powerful the last few weeks had been, maybe they could be tossed aside - _I_ could be tossed aside.

Because if you could do what you did - shut me out, fake your death, let me believe you were dead for a year - then... what else might you be capable of?

But all this was done out of mind-numbing terror of your growing feelings for me... and eventually your love. And now you've faced it. And chose to open yourself to it.

And that's not the kind of thing you come back from... not the same, anyway...

You have changed, and I have changed.

Now we're _we_ and _us_ , and I truly believe that.

I wrap my legs around your waist, drawing you closer.

Pulling you deeper.

"Oh god..." I moan. "Always us... I love you... Jim..."

I draw you down into a deep kiss.

 

 

_I’m melting into you, my Tiger, my husband, my true other half. You can’t be closer but I’m trying anyway - deeper inside you, staring into your eyes, kissing you... my hands holding on to you as if I am scared that you’re going to run away... but you won’t -_

_and I realize that I’ve been holding on to the fear that you *would*, ever after that first night when you did; that so much of what I’ve been doing since then was to stop you doing that again, because it killed me._

_And there is a relief in me, that I feel echoing in you, the realization that you are not going to leave, that you have forgiven me, that we are *all right* - not sane, not safe, still likely to explode at each other, to do stupid things (wanting to shoot you springs to mind, making me wince), to risk our lives - but we will always be together and be there for each other. Until death do us part. And death better not have any plans for that for a *long* time._

_I am swept towards my climax, and it’s going to overwhelm me, and I will enjoy it so much, but the physical sensation is dwarfed by the emotional intensity of me finally fully realizing that we are together. Forever. And how incredibly happy that makes me._

 

 

When you come, it's hard and intense... I hold onto you, feeling you shuddering against me, listening to you crying out.

It's so fucking beautiful...

You're so fucking beautiful...

I love you, I adore you...

And you're going to help me get my revenge at last...

my sexy psycho genius...

We are mad, bad, and beautiful, and my father's going to see that for himself.

And I _can't wait_ to introduce you...

I grin up at you as you pant for air. "Mmm, baby..." I purr. "That felt so good..."

 

 

_Oh god - oh god oh god oh *GOD* -_

_“Sebastian-“_

_It’s everything, I’m swept into nothing, I’m pure sensation, love, ecstasy, *surrender*..._

_Surrender to this, to love, to being together, to being one with you, because without you there could never be a me, not any more, not since a long time..._

_And as I shudder, spasm, and groan myself into you, I open my eyes and look into yours, and I see you welcoming me... all of me... like you’ve always done..._

_... and it feels like my heart falls into you; and that’s fine, that’s where it belongs..._

_I lie on top of you, panting, kissing you, murmuring things like ‘love’ and ‘always’ and ‘Tiger’, and once again I cry, because that is who I am now, and it’s fine, it’s fine, because it’s for you, my love, my husband, and you understand..._

 

 

Oh my beautiful Jim... the sweet things you're murmuring, the tears in your eyes...

How am I so fortunate to have what I've always longed for, deep down, so deep... someone who adores me, who I adore...

and not just any old _someone_...

the most beautiful, fascinating, powerful, intelligent, sexy being I have ever met.

"You're the One, Jim... the only One I could have fallen for so hard, so _completely_..." I whisper against your skin as I kiss your lips. "You're my True Love... It's always been you."

 

 

_“Fuck, Sebastian, if we could have seen this scene two years ago... we would have laughed our heads off and not believed it would be possible. Though deep inside we would have longed for it... so much...”_

_I nudge myself off you, reach down to where your hard cock is straining to meet me. You deserve the world, but for now I’m going to just wank you, because I want to keep looking into your eyes._

 

 

"It would have seemed like a fever dream..." I murmur. "Like something your brain cooks up when you're sick or high... because I _never_ would have believed I could have this... with you," I say fervently, then moan as I feel your hand on me, moving rhythmically. "Mmm... kiss me, Jim..." I whisper.

And you capture my lips with yours, and it's so sweet and _so hot_ to be kissing as you wank me, and I'm groaning softly as you do, and move my hips, slowly first and then urgently. I break off the kiss and throw my head back.

"Oh... god..." I cry out, as the shivering begins.

"Oh, Jim..."

 

 

_“Yes, my love, my beautiful husband, my brave soldier, my fierce Tiger... come for me, give me your pleasure... I love you... I fucking love you... and it’s so good to finally say it. I love you, I’ve always loved you... you’re mine, I’m yours; you and me against the world, Tiger... the world doesn’t stand a chance...”_

_You’re writhing, groaning, god I love that face, and there it is, your climax, your ecstasy, all for me, always all for me..._

 

 

I come hard against you, overcome by violent spasms, primal moans and cries... overcome by youyouyou, my beautiful love... Jim...

my husband, my life...

My eyes half open and I look up at your face.

“Hey, baby...” I murmur. “You are so hot...”

 

 

_“Aren’t I just...” I smile. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”_

_I stretch out for some wet wipes, clean us both up, then lie down next to you._

_You automatically turn and look into my eyes._

_Such love... so sweet..._

 

 

I pull you against me and into a kiss.

“I’ve always loved you too, Jim...” I murmur. “I can’t believe I can say this to you, now... hear it from _you_. I think it may take me the rest of my life to come to terms with it. Jim Moriarty has always loved me?”

My face breaks into a wide smile. Then I take your face in my hands. “But you just had to play hard to get, didn’t you. You little shit...”

I kiss you again, catching your lip in my teeth and tugging gently.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten the rest of those smacks against your luscious arse. I still plan to collect them...” I whisper.

 

 

_"Mmmmm..." I purr. "You keep getting distracted, Tiger... But it's fine, you can get them whenever you want... just not now, because I'm sleeping, and you should always let sleeping Kittens lie..."_

_I look at your face, and I'm moved to see it has changed yet again... changed so much from the tense, pained, empty expression I encountered when I entered the shower back in London... gradually, since then, it's got lighter, brighter, more alive. Since that first night, when we got back to the apartment, one by one it seems that the burdens you have been carrying have been lifted... with this final (??) major one, the Sherlock nonsense, and my feelings about you during the years we spent together..._

_You are looking genuinely happy, and where I have seen you look happier and happier during the past weeks, it feels like now, finally, every little cloud has disappeared from before the sun and I can look at the bright firmament of your smile without twinges of guilt, worry, or doubt._

_I roll over and kiss you so softly, so sweetly, trying to express all the love that is in my heart through the medium of my lips - an impossible task, as the source is infinite, but I can make a start..._

 

 

"You're going to sleep?" I murmur softly. "You've barely eaten a thing today. There's still so much of your birthday feast left over, if you get hungry later..."

My arms tighten around you. You've been staring at me in awe like you've made an amazing discovery. I could get used to this, I find myself thinking as I smile back at you.

I'm used to being the one who gazes at you like you're all the wonders of the world combined, and a fascinating mystery to solve.

"I know exactly what you mean," I tell you, echoing what I said to you after our reunion back in London. When no words would have sufficed. I hold your face.

"My perfect, beautiful Jim..." I whisper and kiss you.

 

 

_You are reading my mind, it seems, and why not? We are perfectly symbiotic now..._

_"My Sebastian... so good at everything... so good of heart... well, compared to certain people... to me, anyway... so beautiful... just... perfect in every way..."_

_I drift off, smiling._

 

 

I don't fall asleep right away. I just hold you... watching you... listening to you breathe...

I think back over the events of today. How I was so worried it would fracture what we had built since your return. Like it would somehow weaken our bond to summon the spectre of the past.

I was so wrong...

An amazing truth was revealed... even to you.

You loved me all along...

And the terrible thing you did was not out of callousness, but out of fear of that love.

It's not even a question that you're forgiven.

And we're stronger than ever.

I look down at you in awe. My arms tighten around you, and you murmur "Tiger" and continue to sleep.

I smile at you. Then I rest my head against the pillow, and soon I'm being enveloped in velvety soft blackness.

 

 

_When we wake up you heat some dinner, I make some coffee, and I notice I have yet another text from Eduardo._

_"Tiger - Eduardo really wants to see us. Shall we go over tomorrow? He's inviting us to dinner. Do you think we're up to being in polite company for a couple of hours without bursting into tears or killing anyone?"_

 

 

I pretend to think as I get out plates and cutlery. "A couple of hours? Should be fine on my end... you, darling?" I grin at you. "Jesus. We are so not most couples..."

I carry our plates to the dining table. "Dinner's ready, Kitten..." I return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses and kiss you soundly. "Mmm. Delicious..."

 

 

_"Yes, you are... food now, Tiger... you do realize you're supposed to shag *less* after you got married?"_

_Your eyes tell me clearly that this is news to you, and you're not buying it for one second._

_"Food," I say sternly, and point to the plates. It smells delicious - I realize with a pleasant start that I'm actually hungry. And - feeling really quite good. Lighter than I can ever remember feeling._

 

 

"It's gonna be weird," I say, taking a big forkful of my enchilada with tomatillo salsa, and cramming it into my mouth. I chew thoughtfully, and swallow. "Criminal or not, we don't generally sit down to dinner with people as a rule... I'm not exactly in the habit of carrying on conversations any more, except with you..."

I take up another forkful of enchilada, and pause. "No bursting into tears, you say..." I say, giving you a bemused look. "I'm going to need some good tequila..."

 

 

_“I’ll remind you of our tequila orgy. I seem to remember there were tears... quite a few._

_You’ll be alright. They’re used to you being the strong silent bodyguard in the background while Eduardo and I chat - but maybe when you’re the spouse, that means that Elena will want to engage you in conversation about... whatever it is crime boss spouses talk about. Fashion, from what I’ve picked up._

_Actually, scrap that. You talk with Eduardo, I’ll have a chat with Elena about Gaultier’s latest collection.”_

 

 

"Yeah, I don't think I'd be very good at crime boss spouse topics... I'll leave that to you, sweetheart. Maybe Eduardo will want to talk about his favourite weapons, or his criminal enterprises... or maybe he's a Game of Thrones fan." I grin at you. "We only got as far as season two! What if he drops a massive spoiler? How can we _not_ burst into tears?" I finish the food on my plate, help myself to some of yours. I feel your eyes on me.

"You gonna eat all this, babe?" I say as an afterthought.

 

 

_“I was going to *especially* enjoy the beef enchiladas...” I say pouting. “I’m not sure if I should start crying or tell you who Jon Snow’s mother is.”_

 

 

I put my fork down. "Excuse me? You _know_? Did you hear something, or-"

I raise my eyes heavenward. "Are you deducing, darling?"

 

 

_"It's obvious, really..." I grin. You're scrambling around on your plate for something scrumptious to give me._

_"I might be plied with some more coffee..."_

 

 

I get up, grinning. "It's _not_ obvious to most people, I'm guessing... but we're not all as clever as _you,_ " I say, and lean down to kiss you. I just can't touch you enough, it seems. "One coffee coming up, my beautiful genius..." I croon, and then remember my nemesis - the gleaming chrome coffee machine with endless buttons, that looks capable of launching a rocket into space. "If I don't press the wrong thing and bring down the international space station..." I mutter as I head to the kitchen. I add ground beans to the blasted machine, start punching buttons, and glare as it whirrs to life.

 

 

_That *sounds* like you're doing the right thing... though -_

_I hear you curse as the hot water comes down the wrong dispenser, missing the coffee grounds._

_I move to the kitchen, grinning. "See, it's really straightforward," I say as I take the filter out of its socket and put it in the other one. "When Ned Stark says-"_

_"Noooooo," you shout, covering your ears. "Lalalalala, can't hear you!"_

_I put my finger to my lips to signal that I've stopped. "Look at how far I've grown as a person Seb! I've gone from beating you up to threatening with Game of Thrones spoilers. Aren't you proud of me?"_

_I press the button that should make the hot water come out again. It's not coming out._

_For Christ's sake. I'm going to order a new machine. Why are we struggling with this thing still?_

_Oh wait. The reservoir is empty. Hmph._

_I refill it._

 

 

" _So_ proud... you've evolved into a spiritual paragon!" I say cheerily. "You're like the Buddha, if the Buddha were a hot adorable psychopath, who fucked like a demon..." Pleasant visions of said demon-fuckery fill my head while I watch you try to figure out the Machine. Well, if my beautiful genius can't make the thing spit out coffee, what chance do I have?

Finally you solve the mystery by adding water. I roll my eyes.

"Stupid fucking contraption," I grumble. "One of these days, fucker... you're in for a serious defenestration." I shake my fist at it.

"I guess this doesn't count as making you coffee... is there anything else I can ply you with?" I ask innocently. “Wine? Song? Erotic massage?”

 

 

_Coffee comes out. It even comes out the right spout. I grab us both a cup and head back to the breakfast table, only to find someone got there first._

_I freeze in the doorway._

_“Sebastian!”_

_It’s a tiny grey kitten._

 

 

I follow you, sniffing the coffee-scented air, slightly miffed that you didn't respond to my generous offers.

I'm about to lodge a formal complaint, when you stop abruptly and shout my name.

Battle mode pours into my veins, and I'm ready to spring into action. Only - the threat in question is terribly small and wrapped in fluffy grey fur.

"What the hell?" I stand behind you, open-mouthed. "How did it - _how_?"

 

 

_It’s so tiny it’s so cute it’s so hungry it’s so pretty it’s so stripy I’m in love. It’s about eight weeks old and needs flea treatment. There’s bound to be a vet in town._

_“A birthday kitten!!”_

 

 

"Your birthday was yesterday," I remind you helpfully, and you ignore me as you give the kitten your hand to sniff. I already know this battle is lost - I can make all the logical arguments in the world about why this would be impractical - what are we going to do with it when we travel, Jim? what if we're busy with you know, _crime_?? what if our lives are in danger, i.e. every other Tuesday???

I sigh and shake my head as you stare at it, already smitten - you may as well be a cartoon character with hearts for eyes.

"Welcome home, Kitten the Second," I say wryly.

 

 

_"Can we keep him!?" I squee in a whisper so as not to disturb Tezcatlipoca during his dinner. I carefully try to touch the top of his head, and he lets me, looking up with deep green eyes with the most magnificent eyeliner I've ever seen. I put some mince on my finger and let him eat it off. He licks it clean afterwards._

_"He loves me!"_

 

 

I chuckle at your antics and barely suppressed shrieks.

"Of _course_ he does, my angel... how could he not?"

I scratch the bridge of his nose gently. "Has he told you his name?" I gaze adoringly at my smitten Kitten, as you stare into your little monster's eyes.

 

 

_"Tez - cat - lipoca. God of the night, temptation, sorcery, beauty and war, recognizable by the black stripe across his face." I caress said black stripe. "God of robbers, rulers, and warriors, whose animal form is the jaguar." Tezzy acknowledges all this with a friendly narrowing of his eyes. He's used to people... has he come from any of the other villas around here? If so, they're rubbish cat parents - he's covered in fleas. One lands on my hand and I brush it off. He's chosen us, obviously._

 

 

"Jesus..." I stare with distaste at the flea you flick from your hand. It's amazing to me what you're willing to put up with for cats and only cats... when any other kind of living creature makes you tense and jumpy. "Can we take him to a vet already, so we're not starting up our very own flea circus? I'm sure you'll feel better once he's had an examination, anyway... I'll make an appointment, shall I?"

You just murmur at the now-purring kitten, so I scoop up my phone and do a quick search on vets in the area with good reviews. I find Dr Ramon Velasquez, call him up and I'm delighted to learn he's had a cancellation and can squeeze us in, in about 45 minutes. He's only 15 minutes away which I'm sure will make you very happy. I quickly order a car for us.

"Good news, he can see us in 45 minutes. So we'll leave in 15, stop at a pet supply store to get a carrier and litter box? Shall I find a box to carry him in, in the meantime?" And a blanket that we can burn after? I think to myself, then go off in search of a box. Today is not turning out at all how I'd planned...

 


	8. Very Fucking Therapeutic

_I talk to Tezzy in Spanish. I should learn Nahuatl, really. He seems fine with whatever, as long as he can keep eating and I keep up the pettings._

_You come in with a cardboard box, and refuse to listen to my protests that I’ll hold him and he’s not going to run away and that we have an understanding._

_“He’ll run through the car and get under the driver’s feet and get us all killed, Jim.”_

_“He wouldn’t!” But you’re grabbing him and putting him onto the towel in the box, talking nonsense about safety and being a good bodyguard._

_“Don’t listen to Daddy Tiger. He gets all mother hennish but that is because he loves us so much.”_

 

 

"Yes, _I'm_ the one who gets mother hennish..." I say, as I give you the box to carry with your precious bundle nestled inside.

"Is he going to be warm enough?" you fret as you trail behind me towards the door.

"Jim, we're in _Mexico_! And he's clearly a stray, so he's used to being outdoors..." I peek into the box at the tiny grey ball of fluff, whose eyelids are drooping. "He seems comfortable enough to me..." A text alert goes off, and I glance at my phone. "And there's the car! Ready for your first road trip, Tez?" I open the door and smile at you, my psychopathic genius fussing over a sleeping kitten in a box.

 

 

_We head to the pet shop, who seem unreasonably fussed about us bringing an actual pet into the shop, and very unhappy when I let Tezzy try out different carriers to find out which one is most comfortable. He settles on a sleek black one - he's got taste. He got that from me. Meanwhile, you've picked up a litter box, feeding bowls, food, some toy mice, a cat tower thing with a scratch post and basket and hammock and a little house, and a cat bed, and are at the till. I try to insist that Tez needs to try all *those* out as well before we just pick one, but you point at your watch and tell me that the vet is waiting._

_I explain to Tez that it's alright, if we don't like something, we'll just send Daddy Tiger back to the shop to exchange it._

 

 

Getting you and your darling kitty out of the pet supply shop is an exercise in managing time and a cooing psychopath. This cat will surely be the most spoiled cat in Mexico, if not the world.

Carrying all the packages, I manage to bustle you to the waiting car, steering you back when you insist we haven't bought enough toys.

"Jim," I soothe, as I put the stuff down and open the door for you. "Health comes first. I assume you want the best veterinary care... so let's keep to our appointment time. If Tez complains later about his toys, well I guess I'm heading back to the shop..."

With you and Tez safely in the car, I close the door firmly. I take a moment to close my eyes and groan softly - then I give the bags to the driver to store in the boot before getting back in to assure you everything will be fine and it's time to go.

 

 

_Don't think I didn't see that groan, Tiger... what, you're not ready to be a parent? But *look* at his little face, sniffing my finger through the bars of his carrier..._

_The vet receptionist raises his eyebrows at the name and makes me spell it - honestly, Mexicans these days. No respect for their culture._

_"You see it's funny because it has 'cat' in it..." I explain, in Spanish, which kind of diminishes the hilariousness I guess._

_The vet examines Tezzles and takes a blood sample. I'm proud to see Tez take a blood sample in return. Then he gives him pills, drops, and injections, which elicit angry curses in Cat._

_"He seems fine, except the usual parasites," the vet says. "I've given him treatments against fleas and worms, and his first round of vaccinations. You should come back for the second round in two months - will you still be here?"_

_"I'm not sure..." I admit._

_"I'll print out what I've given him, so you can show that to your local veterinarian. If you want to travel with him, he'll also need a passport."_

_A *passport*!? I was just going to bribe someone..._

_"It shows he has a chip and the number, and that his rabies vaccines are up to date. Would you like me to chip him and vaccinate against rabies?"_

_"Yes! Definitely!" We can track a chip - if he's catnapped or lost, we'll be able to find him. And of course we don't want him to get rabies._

_The vet gives poor Tez two more injections, which really piss him off, and he retreats back into the carrier. Poor kitten - I hope he understands we're doing this for his benefit._

_The vet gives us a 'kitten care kit' with information, food, further flea and worm treatments, stickers for our calendar, etcetera. You pay him, I carry poor Tezzy back to the car._

_"I'm so sorry Tezcatlipoca... I assure you it's all to make sure you're healthy... you're going to be the healthiest cat on the peninsula. You'll be great and big and strong and feared like your Tiger dad... and beautiful and smart and lethal and cute like your Jim dad..."_

 

 

I let you take the lead on Tezzy's appointment, waiting patiently in the background like a good kitten dad.

Grimacing when he has blood drawn and squeaks his displeasure... trying not to laugh when he takes out his misery on the vet with a swipe of his needle-like claws.

Then after everything's wrapped up, Tezzy is sulking in his carrier, and you're carrying him to the car.

I listen to you coo at him some more, and I chuckle when Tezzy yowls mournfully.

You look at me. "Does he remind you of anyone?" I ask innocently. "He's not afraid to let people know in no uncertain terms when he's _not happy_... and he enjoys making people bleed."

I shake my head, grinning. "He's already taking after you, my darling..."

 

 

_"Deadly and cute? I can't deny that..." I smile. "Look, Tezzers, we'll be home soon, and you're going to get *treats* and *kitten food* and Daddy Tiger is going to build you a beautiful tower fortress._

_We'll have to find out where he got in, and make sure he can't get out. You have to keep them in for two weeks so they don't run off. Same as Tigers. Oh! And you'll have to teach him to hunt as well. Without guns."_

_I look into the carrier. Tez appears to have forgotten his ordeal and is curled up sleeping soundly. "Isn't he the cuuuuutest..."_

 

 

God, I'm going to be busy for a while... parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

This isn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight... but the smile on your face lights up my heart.

"Teach him to hunt? He's got good hunter's genes, never you fear... see how quickly he took down that vicious hand that was trying to take his blood?" I grin at you gazing moon-eyed at your sleeping kitty.

 

 

_“He’s good, isn’t he?” I beam with pride. “A vet must be particularly good at avoiding scratches, so the fact that he got one in means he’s a really talented warrior, just like his Tiger Daddy. We needed a hunter to keep Guarida del Tigre rodent-free. You’re going to be a great mouse-hunter, won’t you Tez?”_

_Tez sleeps happily through the trip home. Once we get there, I make you search the living room for possible escape routes while I set up the litter box. When I let him out of the carrier I immediately put him into the tray, like the vet recommended. “That’s the first place he should know, so he can explore from there. Let him investigate his new surroundings in his own time, don’t force him,” he’d explained._

_Tezzy doesn’t seem shy, is out of the covered litter box and sniffing around the sofa immediately._

_I put some food and water in the bowls and put them down in front of him, and he devours the kitten food, then goes to wash himself._

_I could watch him for hours, but you’re asking me to help build the tower and of course my kitten needs his fortress._

 

 

Settling Tez into his new home takes some time, but it doesn't take long at all for him to be acting like he owns the place - god, he really is the perfect cat for you. Well... _us_. For me, it's become second nature to intuit the needs of an adorable tyrant and run to satisfy his whims. But seeing you do this is absolutely surreal...

I suppose this is what it's like when a child comes into your life, and you suddenly find your paternal instincts... but as neither of us have shown the slightest desire or inclination to raise a human, we're clearly much better suited to care for what is soon to be an exalted feline.

Building the cat tower while Tez bathes and then naps is another exercise in patience as you second-guess everything we've purchased and begin to muse about how the villa could be refurbished to be more cat-friendly.

While you're supposed to be helping, you're researching and waving your phone at me excitedly.

"Look, Tiger - custom-built cat interiors! Look at this cat wall... and this one is designed like a tree!"

"Oh perfect, so he can get himself stuck up a tree indoors as often as he likes... and get rescued by Daddy Tiger?" I say brightly while putting the finishing touches on the tower by myself.

I can feel you pouting without even having to look up.

"Jim... we haven't even figured out how long we're going to stay in Mexico... and you want to start redesigning Guarida del Tigre?"

"Yes..." you sulk.

I chuckle. "Tezzy joined us a couple of hours ago - I don't think we need to start calling contractors _right_ away... maybe give it a couple of days?" I wrap my arms around you, and kiss your neck.

 

 

_"You know how long a couple of days is in cat years?!" I protest, but then Tez has discovered the mouse dangling from the cat tower and is on it like a flash of grey fuzzy lightning. The mouse is eviscerated - or would have been, if it had been made of mouse instead of sturdy sisal. "He's so fast and lethal!" I beam. Tez demonstrates more of his agility by running up and down the cat tower at breakneck speed and then darting under the sofa, coming out on the other side, skidding on the smooth marble floor, climbing up the sofa - oh dear - we may need to get more cat-friendly upholstery; I can see the little threads breaking from here - racing over it, then launching himself at the wooden beam in the middle of the living room and scaling it halfway before jumping off and disappearing under a cabinet._

_"Well. I'd like to see you do half as well on an assault course."_

 

 

"I'll have you know I'm masterful on an assault course... but the kid does have moves even I couldn't emulate. He's very aerodynamic and appears to have no bones," I say cheerfully and throw myself on the sofa.

I watch as you lower yourself to the floor, peek under the cabinet, and try to lure him out - first by wheedling, then pleading, then treats. After Tez devours several treats from your hand, he disappears under the cabinet again. I chuckle at your lamentations.

I guess what we're doing for the rest of the evening is sorted... at least until the kitten falls asleep.

"I'm getting myself a beer. You want?" I grin, and head to the kitchen.

 

 

_Beer? Yeah, why not._

_"We really need to start running again, Tiger... we're getting fat and complacent. I don't want you turning into one of those ex-soldiers who drink ten pints a night and have a beer belly and tattoos. In fact - let's have a run on the beach and give Tez some time to relax, then have a beer?"_

 

 

My eyes sweep over us both. "I would hardly say either of us is fat," I say drily. " But point taken... you really want to run now??"

You stand and extend a hand. I groan, and let you pull me up. I follow you to the bedroom, and we change into clothes to run in.

"Maybe turn one of the rooms into a gym?" I ask, pulling on my trainers. "How long are we staying here, anyway? We really do need to talk about that at some point, Jim..."

 

 

_“Yes...” I frown, pulling on my trainers. “I... really don’t know, Tiger. So much has been happening here... I mean, even this morning. I kind of feel that we should - wait until that has died down a bit before we decide on when to leave? I think - I know we’ve been joking about our quiet fucking day, but a few quiet days to process before we decide where to go next?”_

 

 

"Makes sense... sorry darling, I don't mean to be rushing us to make a decision. In a few weeks, I've gone from feeling too damaged to leave the villa to feeling nervous about 'being away for too long'. And I don't know that it’s even a real concern, or just an idea in my head that makes me panic sometimes. Just this feeling that hits me sometimes like 'I'm supposed to be doing something!'... I guess I've just never gone so long without working. And now suddenly I'm really in the mood to run." I grin at you, and jog out of the room. "Last one to the beach is a reprobate and a deviant!"

 

 

_I'm quite happy being a reprobate and a deviant, so I jog after you at a sedate pace. Won't do to get the old muscles hurting because of a competitive Tiger. I know you're faster than me anyway._

_You wait up for me, and we run along the beach together, near the waterline, where the sand is not too soft. It's still harder than on a hard path, and I soon find myself panting._

_Funny, that you should be the one who is uncomfortable and wanting to get back to work... normally that would be me. And I did have that one crazy moment - but overall I'm quite relaxed about the whole thing._

_Very unlike me..._

_Maybe it is because I've never had feelings, and now I *do* have them, they kind of take up all my attention, because I don't know what to do with them? For normal people, they sort of live in the background all the time, I believe, except when they come into the foreground at times of great stress or joy or whatever. But for me - they just were never there, and now they are, they're constantly the focus of attention, because they are so new - I can't just let them simmer in the background because I am not used to them yet. Like putting new wallpaper in a room, in a bold pattern - it takes time before you don't notice the wallpaper with a start every time you walk in._

 

 

I'm smiling as I run with my beautiful husband next to me. Why did I stop doing this? It feels _amazing_. Oh, right... because you were dead, I was a broken wreck, and nothing mattered anymore. I shudder at the memory - then I glance at you running beside me. Your face is flushed and you're panting, but you're in good form. You grin at me.

"Fuck, I love you..." I beam at you, and continue running along the beach.

 

 

_We keep running. I'm glad we are comfortable with not talking, because there's no way I could say anything - but I *have* to respond to this. "Love - you - too Tiger..." I pant, and I can't look any good, I feel flushed, I'm sweating - but you smile widely like only you can, and the world is so much brighter with that smile in it._

_You were in shit nick when I came back, and you haven't been running - why is this so much easier for you?! I'm huffing like a steam train and you're only barely breaking a sweat. It must be those quick workouts you do - I've walked in on you doing fast pushups or situps. But even when I was at peak fitness, you could still run rings around me. Anything physical seems to just come so naturally to you, whether it's running or fucking or fighting or - rock climbing, or dancing..._

_I like to think I'm reasonably elegant, and have good moves - I've worked hard on those. But that's it - I have to concentrate, make a conscious effort, whereas your body just seems to always do whatever is best in the moment without you thinking about it. I know you had many years of arduous training to become the fittest, most precise, most lethal weapon the British army had at its disposal - and it was drilled and drilled until it became part of you, with no need to think about it - but you kept it up admirably. You joined the SAS selection at 21. You're now twice that age, but you're still incredibly fit. And just as lethal as ever._

 

 

When we’re slowing down and nearing the villa, I can’t help but notice that you’re red-faced and, more to my concern, wincing.

“Are you in pain?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

“Nah... I’m alright...” you brush it off, and I leave it - if anyone hates to be coddled unnecessarily, it’s you.

But then, if anyone is likely to ignore physical issues that shouldn’t be ignored...

“If something’s wrong and you’re not telling me... I will not be pleased,” I say pointedly, as I enter the code for the gate.

You sigh with great exasperation as we jog towards the beach. “Is that so...”

Then your face scrunches up in pain. “Fuck,” you curse. “It’s a fucking leg cramp...”

I point towards a lounge chair. “Sit.” I say firmly.

 

 

_Fuck. I hate it when I have to admit weakness. Even to you, even now._

_Why can’t I just run a few miles without issue? I used to run a lot more than this. Even in Italy, which isn’t *that* long ago._

_It must be the sand - it’s quite a different surface and the tension in the muscles is different, and then I misstepped and - well. It’s definitely a cramp and it’s not going._

_I sit down on the chair; you kneel at my feet. For once, this is not a sexy thing._

 

 

I take your calf in my hands, carefully feeling for knotted muscles and spasms. And there they are... oh, you poor thing. Trying not to show you’re in pain.

“Try and relax...” I soothe. “I’ll take care of this...”

I push against your toes, then begin to work on the knots, gently at first. As I feel the tension dissipate, the muscle slowly releases.

“Bit better?” I murmur, and you nod. I go deeper, my fingers digging into your muscles. I stare at your leg as I do. Feeling the silky softness of your skin, and the firmness of muscle underneath...

Every part of you is beautiful.

Every part of you is adored.

I stare up at you, your calf resting in my palms. My fingertips gently graze your skin.

“How is it now?” I breathe.

 

 

_You push my foot back and I grit my teeth, but it helps. Then you gently and skilfully massage the afflicted muscles, and I feel the pain slide from my leg into your fingers, more and more..._

_I breathe easier._

_“You’re a miracle worker, Tiger... is there anything you can’t do? If I didn’t love you so much I think I’d hate you... handsome and smart and talented and rich... though slightly less handsome and smart and talented and rich than me, of course.”_

_I can’t help but notice your fingers are stroking my leg in a way that doesn’t seem to be related to any medical benefits..._

 

 

“Of _course_. There’s plenty of things... I can’t run a criminal Empire like you can... don’t have the vision or the mental capacity. I can’t grasp astrophysics, or do any of the brainy things you like to do for fun. I can’t dance like you. And in bed, I’m not nearly as cruel or creative or masterful as you...” my voice deepens. “ _No one_ can do what you do...”

 

 

_Mmmm... yes, you’re right. I am quite extraordinary. It’s easy to forget how great you are when you’re in love - the other guy is so overwhelmingly incredible that everyone else pales beside him, yourself included. Huh._

_“Yeah, I am quite something, aren’t I...” I smile._

_“But I’m disappointed you only think me cruel and masterful in bed...”_

_My hand reaches out and touches your cheek. “You seem to have forgotten the beam in the living room...” You look up at me, eyes growing dark at the memory._

_“That palm tree over there...” I point, “... and this very beach...”_

_Tezzy is going to be alright, isn’t he? Yes, he has water, food, litter, three beds - he’s going to survive for a bit longer..._

 

 

“I didn’t mean-,” I grin, shake my head. “Blatant oversight, Sir. I’m sure you’ll remind me... at some point, Sir...”

Memories are swirling in my head now. God, the palm tree...

 

 

_You’re looking longingly at the palm tree - and god, yes - but I can’t take a bullwhip to you again already, the welts from this afternoon are too livid still. So much pain, so little Tiger..._

_I lean over, kiss you hard, my hand grasping in your hair._

_I pull back, look into your eyes. “Tell me what you desire, Tiger...”_

 

 

I look at you in wonder. “Show me I’m yours. I don’t care what you do. Just - show me I belong to you...” My hand tightens on your thigh.

 

 

_I’ll never tire of hearing you say that. And I’ll never tire of showing you again and again that you are mine, in all ways possible..._

_Not many ways present themselves at this moment. We’re in our running gear on a beach chair... no handy implements, no lube - a challenge for the creative sadist._

_Palm fronds? Not really suitable; they look like they’ll break from the air pressure or cut your skin and give you nasty infections. Seashells? Sand? Salt water?_

_Not very *useful*, these beaches. Not like British forests where one can cut a switch. Not that I approve of nature in general - too messy and dirty._

_Anyway. I have a Tiger looking up at me with huge dark pupils surrounded by deep blue irises. He is expecting something from me so I better improvise fast..._

_“Mine...” I smile, stroking your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, down your chest. I take the hem of your t-shirt, pull it up, over your head. I catch a whiff of fresh Tiger sweat, full of delicious pheromones, making me practically swoon with desire - the human body is such a fascinating construct..._

_I pull your arms together and tie your wrists with your t-shirt._

 

 

You look around the beach, considering. Like you have all the time in the world...

Fuck, I love how you own everything in your sight.

Then you turn your eyes on me.

Oh god, the way you’re looking at me... now stripping me, handling me. Everything you do... makes me want to fall to my knees. I stare back at you, with restrained wrists, with skin heating up, and desire pouring through my body.

“Yours,” I confirm, breathlessly. “Ever yours. Yours, endlessly...”

 

 

_“Oh, I know, Tiger... it’s never been in question. Not for me, not for you... not even when you thought it was._

_Jim Moriarty always gets what he wants - and keeps it if it pleases him._

_And nothing and no one is as good at pleasing me as you...”_

_I move my mouth to your ear, whisper, “Aren’t you...”_

_You shiver, whisper “Yes, Sir...”_

_“Take off those trousers and shoes, Tiger... I want you naked.”_

 

 

God, your _voice_...

My breath catching in my throat, I’m up and undressed before I inhale again.

Shoes and clothes in a heap, I stand before you naked. “Whatever you desire, Sir...”

 

 

_Yes, of course._

_“Lie down, Sebastian... on your back.”_

_You stretch out on the sand. I get up, put my knees either side of your hips, and lean down, kissing you again, greedily, hungrily, rubbing my clad crotch against your naked erection._

 

 

Fuck... your kissing sets me on fire. I want to moan at you to take those clothes _off_.. but that’s not how this game is played...

But seriously... Jim... why are you still dressed? I make a frustrated sound in my throat.

 

 

_I pull off my own t-shirt. You look at me with blatant hunger and lust, and it’s so hot to have someone look at you like that..._

_I stroke my left hand slowly up over your chest, stroke your clavicle, your neck... then lean slightly, squeeze. You go still._

 

 

Your chest... your arms...

Oh god... so hot...

Your hand on my skin is slow, sensual... and then suddenly...

 _Oh_...

 _Jim_...

I make a sound in my throat again, this time a rumbling growl.

 

 

_“A growl, my Tiger? Surely not... your life is mine, my love... mine to own, mine to use... mine to end, if I so desire...” I say in a low voice, pushing slightly harder._

_I move to your side, keeping my left hand in place, moving my right to your cock._

_Rock hard. Of course._

 

 

God, how you manhandle me... put me in my place... use aggressive seduction to get me _so hot_... fuck yes...

I stare at you, and the growl becomes a low moan.

 

 

_“Mine,” I growl, biting your jaw, my left hand still grabbing your throat, my right starting to move on your cock._

 

 

Oh god... part of me wants to crumple in a heap, the other part of me wants to leap on you and make you fight me for dominance...

I’m a Tiger... but first and foremost, I’m _your_ Tiger, and happy to be on a tight leash...

An appreciative, submissive sound is torn from my throat as you hold it firmly, as you stroke my cock roughly.

Yours...

Yours _YOURS_...

 

 

_“Tell me Tiger...” I say in a low voice as I release the pressure on your throat, still holding on possessively though._

 

 

“ _Yours_ ,” I growl - not at you. Declaratively. At the world.

“And woe to he or she who would put their inferior hands on me...”

 

 

_“Him or her,” I correct automatically. Oh, great, Jim. Very sexy, hold a grammar lesson in the midst of sex. Honestly, I sometimes don’t know how you put up with me._

_“Very good, my Tiger... I want to see you come... today you come before me, because it excites me to see you lose yourself... lose yourself for me, Sebastian...”_

 

 

Aww. My beautiful genius. Trust you to demand perfection in every moment. And how _did_ I get that wrong? Maybe it’s not just my body that needs to stay in shape. Do I need to start reading literature again? Why the _fuck_ am I thinking about this now??

My beautiful genius just gave me an order...

 

“Yes... Sir...” I groan, as you continue to stroke me firmly... so possessively...

God... oh... _god_...

My breathing grows more intense and I moan, moving against your hand.

 

 

_My gorgeous husband, lying prone in the sand of the beach, moaning under my hand... is there anything more beautiful in the world? Soon to spill his seed because I want him to... because I told him to..._

_... but..._

_I wait until you’re close, then stop moving my hand. “Not quite yet.”_

 

 

God, it's so amazing to be given permission to just come - not just permission, but an _order_ to come.

Sir, yes, _Sir_...

I feel a shiver beginning and I'm starting to groan, just as you -

 _what_?

Oh god, _Jim_...

I let out a long, slow breath, and look at you - I'm impressed that I manage to keep my expression as neutral as possible. Shame about the arched eyebrow.

 

 

_Oh what amazing restraint... I’m so proud of you Seb. I’d have expected a curse, muffled or not, or at least a whine. But you just lie there, rigid. Pun very much intended._

_I release your windpipe for a moment, take the hem of my shirt, slowly pull it off._

 

 

Oh.

Interesting.

What's happening now?

Released from your grip, I clear my throat and look at you questioningly.

When your shirt comes off, I lick my lips.

 

 

_I get up, move my shorts and pants down slowly, revealing my erection. I stroke my chest, move down to my thighs, back up. I lick a finger and slide it along my cock from base to tip._

 

 

I shiver as I watch this little display... I am so hard for you...

"Do you want me to take care of that, Sir?" I ask you, my voice husky.

 

 

_“Oh no, Tiger, I was taking care of you first, wasn’t I? So remiss of me, got distracted there...”_

_I lick my finger again and stroke your cock, then lick it again and circle the tip._

 

 

What are you doing _now_?

If you're going to wank me and order me to come, then - just - let - me -

My body jerks forward against your hand, and I groan in frustration.

 

 

_“Oh my poor Tiger...” I say as I move my hand onto your cock, start moving it. “You seem to be a tad excited... but I only said you were going to come before me... I didn’t say when...”_

 

 

This time I can't stop myself from giving you an 'oh come the fuck _on_ ' look.

We stare at each other for a moment, you looking rather amused.

For a moment, I’m tempted to pray to Santa Muerte... but I suspect she’d find this as entertaining as you.

And I did ask you to show me I’m yours - that means you do whatever the fuck you want.

"I'm in your expert hands, Sir..." I say breathlessly, closing my eyes.

 

 

_Aw my dear Tiger... don’t like this, do you... much better to feel my pain._

_“Are you not enjoying yourself, my beloved husband? Do you only want to show your loyalty if it’s in ways you like? Where’s the proof in that, my sweet?”_

_I lean down, kiss you passionately. Then I grab your throat and your cock simultaneously, press._

_“You have one minute. Show me how you come undone for me...”_

 

 

I’ve never been very good at keeping my feelings to myself, have I? But being disgruntled and frustrated (and sometimes tormented) by you... it’s part of our _thing_... our delightfully fucked up thing...

I’m thinking of how to assure you I’m enjoying your attention, when -

You have me by the throat and the cock again...

Fuck. No time to waste...

I swallow around your hand, and groan as you wank me.

Oh god...

It’s disturbingly hot - every time...

I breathe raggedly, feeling the beginning of lightheadedness...

and it gets even hotter...

fuck..... yes...

 

 

_I press on your throat, realizing I haven’t done so since I came back._

 

_A stab of guilt, so painful..._

 

_Our last night together. I was so worked up, delirious with lack of sleep, keeping all the threads of my plan for Sherlock in tight control, seeing the end game coming, thinking I’d probably win, anticipating..._

_I shouldn’t have gone to see you, but you kept texting, practically begging..._

_And in hindsight, I knew I was terrified of how much I would miss you... might lose you..._

 

_I went too far. I’d gone too far before, but that night - was way, way too far. I strangled you, like I’d done before, but - there was a thought in me - of ending it all. Sherlock. Me. You._

_I didn’t stop. And - you didn’t stop me. And that made me even *more* furious._

_You nearly died. I really thought you had at one point. I was too fucked up to really care - though I was shocked._

_You didn’t die. But that was the last time I went to see you._

 

_You don’t seem to be thinking of that night at all. You seem to be enjoying this - and somehow that melts away some of the guilt._

_I work on your cock hard, knowing exactly how you like it best - and with thirteen seconds to spare, and strangled gasps, you shudder your semen over my hand and your belly._

 

 

I used to fantasize sometimes with people... that's the thing about hook-ups - you never know if they're going to meet your horny expectations...

and sometimes things needed to be topped up with some seriously hot, deviant fantasies...

until you.

Then my seriously hot, deviant fantasy was the one whipping me, fucking me, blowing me, possessing me utterly - and in this case, choking me and wanking me under the order to come in 60 seconds.

I'm pretty sure I don't reach the limit.

Even lightheaded as I am, my thoughts are _ohMyGodSoFuckingHot_ and _JimJimJIM_...

I come hard, gasping for air... then breathing deeply when your hand releases my throat.

"We're fucking depraved..." I pant. "That was hot, baby..."

 

 

_“Honey, if you can’t be a bit depraved on your honeymoon...” I smile. I’m so glad that we crossed yet another little hurdle, seemingly effortlessly. Bit by bit the spectre of the past is being chipped away, and the brightness of today gets to shine through._

_“I love you, Sebastian...” I smile, then throw myself on top of you, kissing you - and getting your seed on me - oh well, we need a shower anyway._

_I suddenly feel the need to be so close to you... I wrap my arms and legs around you, pull your t-shirt off your wrists so you can hold me, bury my face in your neck. “My love... my Sebastian... my sweet Sebastian...”_

_... aaand I’m crying again. I really am not ready to end this isolation..._

_“I love you so much...”_

 

 

Awww... I love it when you're so affectionate. I love all sides of you, _my Jim_...

but sweet, loving Jim is still new to me... still my miracle.

You're wrapped around me like a sweet serpent, and my arms slide over your back.

Oh. You're crying, and my heart is cracking open in my chest.

"Sweetheart... Jim..." I murmur. "I love you too..."

I take your face in my hands, and kiss your lips gently and searchingly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

 

 

_“Nothing...”_

_No Jim, be honest..._

_Well, if he didn’t think of it, should I *remind* him? Wouldn’t that be stupid and ruin the mood?_

_“I was just - reminded of the past. How - a few times - I choked you and - went too far. On the blue chair..._

_And our last night together. And - I felt guilty, even then...”_

_OK, it appears that sexy time has transformed into therapy time again._

_“I threw out that chair, because every time I saw it, I saw your face again..._

_And... our last night...”_

_I’m properly sobbing now._

_“You just - I did for a moment consider killing you, killing myself, killing Sherlock... and you just - *let* me...”_

_The memory is excruciating; I’m shivering._

_“That made me *so angry* - you not fighting back, just letting me kill you - anger at myself, obviously, but you were the focus -“_

_My memory of your face, your body, the bruises forming in your neck..._

_“And I *said* to you I was bad for you... and you wouldn’t hear it. I nearly killed you and you just said you didn’t care... because the other thing I was doing was worse... abandoning you, keeping you out... you wanted to die at my hands rather than lose me...”_

_My tears drip on your concerned face._

 

 

Oh god...

"Jim. Don't. It's..."

I'm about to tell you, it's _fine_...

We're _past_ it.

You're _forgiven_...

we can move _on_...

But you're making that memory come alive for me...

don't do it Jim...

"Jim..."

My face crumples.

"Why are you- why?" I whimper.

 

 

_*Why am I*, indeed..._

_Why am I? When literally *everyone* would have been better off if I weren’t?_

_My mam and dad didn’t want me to be. But I came into being anyway, didn’t I? Forcing both of them into a life they didn’t want, by insisting on a life that *I* didn’t want._

_I made a total mess of it for everyone, resulting in the deaths of mam and Georgie, and that was during my quiet days. Before I became a criminal psychopath and killed - oh, hundreds. Made many more miserable._

_And to crown my career as the world’s worst human, I made the life of the only man I ever loved a living hell._

_Why am I?! It’s not like I’ve ever enjoyed it._

_“I... don’t know...”_

 

 

"Fuck, Jim..." I sniffle. "I thought I was over it-"

I cover my face, and let out a sob.

"Feeling like I couldn't reach you, even when you were next to me - even when I was _inside_ you... oh _god_..."

Tears are streaming down my cheeks now. Stop this, _stop it_ , Seb...

what good is this doing now?

I swipe at my eyes and nose. “It felt like I was _dying_. Cold and alone. What’s actual death compared to that?” I sob again, burying my face in your shoulder. “Please don’t do it again... please, baby...”

 

 

_“Never... oh god, never... my Sebastian, my brave soldier, my love, my life... you were my life even then but all I could think about was death... I am so sorry my love...”_

_Sorry is so meaningless, so powerless..._

_“All I can do is prove to you day after day that I’ve changed... life has changed. I’m never going to shut you out again. Whatever I do, you will be right there, or I won’t do it. I promise, Seb...”_

 

 

I cry into your already-wet shoulder, noisy gasping sobs...

I had just wanted to get past the awfulness of our previous conversation so badly... and I was so afraid of what it would do to us... I skipped a step along the way. The pain I still carried inside... the wide-eyed, wild-eyed Seb of the past hidden in the shadows, asking 'How could you do this to me?? Don't you know how I feel about you??' But then, I didn't say it with words, did I? Only with everything else...

But the unspoken words were the deep chasm between us, that neither of us would bridge by opening our hearts...

until two weeks ago.

"I know -" I choke. Do I? Mostly. I believe you've changed... I guess I still have secret fears...

"I know, Jim..." I whisper. "Please, just - don't let me go..."

I press my cheek against your chest, and hold onto you as if afraid if you move, you may disappear.

 

 

_You’re clasping yourself onto me like a small child that is terrified its mother will leave..._

_again..._

_And I know that of all the horrible things I’ve done to you, that was the worst... not the almost-killing, not the beatings, the cruel words..._

_It was the separation. You could bear anything, *did* bear anything, just to be with me. You would have preferred me to kill you that night over what I did... slowly move away from you, mentally and then physically, staying at Kitty’s instead of our house... and then removing myself irrevocably by killing myself._

_“My poor sweet beloved Sebastian... I’ll never, never leave again... I promise... I am so sorry... I was so scared of loving you... so scared... I was such a coward..._

_Never again, my love... I am yours until our dying day...”_

 

 

I know, I _know_ you're speaking the truth...

I _know_ things have changed irrevocably...

Why is this memory affecting me so intensely? I feel like I'm still there in the moment, growing colder and colder, feeling a tremor in my muscles as you _leave_ , and _leave_ , and keep leaving me, more so every time, until...

until...

grief passes through me, making me crumble.

I'm shuddering sobs,

I'm wave upon wave of grief rising up from the depths of the sea,

I'm trembling arms clasped around your back, not letting go, clinging to you like driftwood...

I let your words wash over me, struggling to remain afloat.

"I know... I know..." I hear myself repeating, sobbing against your now-wet skin.

"I don't know - why I'm - crying-" I gasp in between heaving sobs. "I believe you... I believe you..."

I rest my head against your shoulder, feeling myself tremble against you. "You're all I want... all I want - in the world..." I whisper. I feel your chest rise and fall like the sea, and I close my eyes, breathing deeply.

 

 

_My Sebastian..._

_I don’t know what to say, my love... you’re grieving over me leaving you again and again and I can’t do anything but hold you and promise you ‘never again’..._

 

 

I have no idea how much time passes in this position... me sobbing my heart out all over you... it’s not pretty, I’m sure. You’ve picked up my t-shirt and are gently drying my eyes, and we just can’t get caught up on the wetness gushing out of my eyes and nose... (Jesus, Seb...)

“I’m s-sorry-“ I gasp. “I thought I - was d-done... I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” I cover my eyes. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” I sniffle against your sweet soaked skin. “I love you, Kitten...”

 

 

_“My sweetheart... my Sebastian, my brave, brave soldier...” I kiss your wet eyes._

_“Don’t apologize, my love. I know you love me. You know I love you. I know you are not doing this to make me feel guilty... but there is so much hurt... that can’t just be gone because you want it to be. I... of course I feel guilty, but I feel guilty because of my own memories, not because of your crying. Please, my love, my Seb... cry... cry like I’d never let you. You have a lot to catch up on...”_

_I hold you, stroke you, wipe your tears. It’s hard to see you so sad, but it’s good as well - it’s another issue between us being given air, rather than being kept inside to fester._

_“Sebastian... my love... just cry and let it go... and... do you want to go into the sea? That seems to- help... wash it away...”_

 

 

I sag with relief against you. However far we've come, it's like down deep I'm still carrying this template of you as hard and unfeeling... like there's no space for me to have needs like this. Like I'm allotted a certain amount of time for emotions, and once that's up... I'm pushing your limits of love and support.

"The sea? Maybe... not yet..." I give a shuddering sigh. "I don't think I can move from here..."

I breathe in your scent. The tears have slowed down into sniffling... soft whimpers in my throat... breathy sighs...

"I kind of want... to kill Kitty Riley..." I mutter. "I want to tell her to her face what a simpleton she was, how none of it was real... am I right?"

 

 

_“If you want to, please do,” I say, surprised. Kitty Riley? Really?!_

_“She was an annoying means to an end. Of course none of it was real - but she had the ear of the nation, and I wanted it. I -“_

_It is so painful to go back to that time and recall how hurt you were..._

_but it’s for Sebastian..._

_“She was a thick self-righteous git... she was pissed off with Sherlock rejecting her and she lapped up all I said. I -“_

_Yes he wants to know; he deserves to know -_

_“I only slept with her twice. I played the fear card, and she loved it, wanting to be the caring saviour more than the lover, thank fuck...”_

_Is that good? Is it less than you expected? Or didn’t you think of me sleeping with her at all and is this hurting you even more?! How can I soothe your pain, Sebastian?_

 

 

"You just seemed... like you were totally losing yourself in that character..." I close my eyes, remembering. "SO concerned about what she'd think if you were gone for a bit... barely making any time to see me or contact me. It was fucking weird and upsetting, and it completely pulled me under, alright? I know _you_ didn't have feelings, but I haven't the first clue what that git Richard Brook felt..." I shake my head furiously. "Jesus! I don't know what I'm doing, dredging all this up!! I didn't know it would feel so _raw_... but it does! Like it happened yesterday..."

I sigh heavily. "You came back what, two weeks ago? I lived with that festering scar for a year, and the actual wounding was... fuck. Other than your death, the bloody worst time of my adult life. And I've been to war... and been captured and tortured. That was nothing compared to this. Whatever schemes you want to get involved with in the future... you _never_ sleep with anyone else again," I snap. My hand tightens on your arm. "If you ever want variety, then it's something we do together... Got that?"

You never let me have a say before, about anything to do with our relationship. It feels good to lay down the law... especially about _this_. A lead weight in my chest cracks open.

 

 

_Wow. That is - very unlike you. Telling me I am not allowed to do something?! This must be the first time you have ever spoken to me like that._

_“I was... losing myself... but - I think that that was again a response to you, as well. Moving away from you, using the game as a justification, and Riley as an... escape. So fucked up..._

_I’m so sorry Seb._

_And - yeah. In my mind, I have only ever slept with you, since we got together, but I can see how technically that isn’t quite true. And - I would have gone mental if you’d shagged anyone else, even on a mission. I mean - I did go mental after your session with Adler..._

_Fuck, Seb, I was so fucked up. I still am fucked up, but hopefully less. And yeah - I’m perfectly happy to promise eternal physical faithfulness to my beloved husband. I don’t even want to think about a threesome. I’ll skin anybody who touches you.”_

_I keep holding you close. Your hand on my arm loosens a bit - you’re still holding on to me but no longer bruising._

 

 

You don't protest. Not that I thought you would... but it's a testament to how far we've come that I could bark something at you that you're not allowed to do... and you know it's important enough to me that you don't react to being told not to do something...

I sigh. "Fine. Whenever we head back to London, I'll pay Ms Riley a visit at some point. Maybe you could join us - that would be very fucking therapeutic for me."

I lift my head and realize I've finally stopped crying.

"I don't know how this happened," I admit, sniffling. "I didn't know any of _that_ was still in there..."

I rub my eyes. "Christ... what if there's _more_?"

 

 

_“Honey, if you want me to kill her, or explain to her exactly how I was using her for my game with Sherlock and how I was using *that* to escape the spectre of falling in love; and declare my undying love for you in front of her before you kill her - *no* problem.”_

_I stroke your wrist. “Anything you want, Seb... I’ll never be able to make this up to you, but I can try to ease the pain of the memory. And - any other pain you still have. I’m not so naive as to think one talk just magically fixes everything. We’re making progress. But - I really fucked up, many times. And I’ll hold you if you need to be held, and I’ll listen if you want to mention something that bothers you, because - that first night I came back I told you I’d never be able to make it up to you but I’d spend the rest of my life trying.”_

 

 

As I listen to your little revenge scenario, my heart is glowing... and then as you talk about giving me whatever I need, I’m blinking back tears.

“Shit,” I say, my voice cracking. “I _just stopped_ , Jim...”

I take a deep breath, and wipe my eyes. “That helps more than you can possibly know... and your little revenge scenario on my behalf... is just so - fucking - romantic...” I beam at you through my tears. “And who could ever have guessed that you would turn out to be that, too... but you are, Jim...” I say in a husky voice, and pull you into a kiss. “And the past be damned... I’m so in love with you, I feel drunk...” I whisper, gazing up at you and kissing you again. “My sweet, murderous Kitten...”

 

 

_Really? That is what cheers you up? Oh bless you my beloved utterly fucked-up husband... If revenge and murder make you happy, revenge and murder you shall have._

_“Of course I’m a romantic. One of the proper ones, all dark and brooding and dramatic...”_

_I jump up, clasp my chest, give my best overacting performance:_

_“The fountains mingle with the river_

_And the rivers with the ocean,_

_The winds of heaven mix for ever_

_With a sweet emotion;_

_Nothing in the world is single;_

_All things by a law divine_

_In one spirit meet and mingle.“_

_I fall to my knees in front of you in desperate supplication._

_“Why not I with thine?— “_

_My arm sweeps out to the imaginary mountains and the actual sea:_

_“See the mountains kiss high heaven_

_And the waves clasp one another;_

_No sister-flower would be forgiven_

_If it disdained its brother;_

_And the sunlight clasps the earth_

_And the moonbeams kiss the sea:_

_What is all this sweet work worth_

_If thou kiss not me?”_

_I have proper tears in my eyes as I look despondently upon your face._

 

 

I watch your performance, enraptured. Soon I’m chuckling at all the theatrical gesticulating. My little ham... you really know how to cheer me up, don’t you...

When you reach your grand teary finale, I clap slowly and whistle at you. “Beautifully done, my drama queen...” I say fondly. “Shelley couldn’t have performed it better... Only... I have no roses to throw at your feet!” I roll across the sand melodramatically, covering my forehead with the back of my hand. “Oh, what a cruel world that such an artist must live on accolades alone!!”

I stifle a grin and give you a pleading look. You are by no means the only ham in this marriage, my dearest...

“Pray... what can I do to show my absolute worship of your-” my eyes flicker over your body. “-gifts?” I ask innocently.

 

 

_I’m glad that got a smile. I don't like seeing you sad... I used to not care at all. I can't imagine that now... but that's exactly why you were sad, because I was an uncaring bastard._

_No longer - I'm such a caring bastard that I completely forgot my own orgasm. However, I am quickly reminded by your lustful gaze upon me..._

_"Your absolute worship, you say?" I ask, looking at you._

_I wonder..._

_Is that guilt or lust? Or some sick combination of both?_

_"Would you... do me the same courtesy I showed you?" I ask, looking into your eyes, licking my lips._

 

 

I look up at you from the sand in surprise. “You mean... choking you? That would be a first...

welll, except for that one time when I was so furious at you because you were taunting me, but you just laughed, so I threw you against the wall and fucked you instead.” I sigh with nostalgia. “Good times...”

I smile at you, wryly.

“Or... did you mean wanking you until you’re moaning in ecstasy?” I get up on all fours, and move towards you noiselessly like a predator... crawling across the sand, and throwing you down on your back. I grasp your wrists and lick your throat.

“Well?” I growl into your neck.

 

 

_"I meant the choking... I don't know what it's like to be choked sexually, but it seems kind of hot. Don't worry, I'll tell you if I don't enjoy it," I wink. "And you might as well wank me till I moan in ecstasy while you're at it. Don't do the stopping and telling me I'm yours bit though... I think I already know that I will not enjoy that. And I can't guarantee I won't kill you..."_

 

 

I chuckle softly into your skin. “I wouldn’t _dream_ of it, Sir... don’t worry, I know who’s on top, no matter what’s happening...” My fingers move along your torso and chest, and stroke your neck gently.

“Even when...” I murmur, kissing under your jaw... “Things get a little...”

One hand slowly strokes your cock.

“Fucked...”

The other firmly grasps your neck, not yet squeezing.

“Up...”

I look down at your cock, smiling as it hardens. “Oh... look at that...”

My fingers slowly squeeze, and I stare into your eyes. “Mmm... Jim... your throat feels _good_...” I whisper.

 

 

_Oh yes... my cock remembers that it was quite excited not long ago, when you were lying here so beautiful..._

_... and now it's me. Me lying here with a Tiger next to me, his skilful hand on me... and his other hand creeping up - onto my neck -_

_*panic*_

_No - calm down - it's Sebastian -_

_Your hand on my neck feels... controlling, powerful... I look up at you sitting next to me, your strong arm, holding me down -_

_and then - pressure...._

_You look into my eyes. Again I am reminded of your strength and power, your lethality... how many people have looked up at you like this, your eyes the last thing they see in this world? You could kill me with a flick of your wrist, not just now, any time... and it's a miracle, and a testament to your patience, that you never have._

_But it is really very hot, to have such a deadly predator at one's side... in one's bed... on one's neck... I love exploring that narrow edge between life and death, but usually it's with me as the killer or not-killer. Seeing it from the inside is... intriguing... feeling your power not as pain but as dominion, hold on me... literally..._

_I breathe shallowly, find my head getting lighter... fighting the urges inside me that want to panic and get loose. This is Sebastian. I could not be safer._

_And your hand on my cock feels... delicious..._

 

 

I watch you closely... I don’t want to send you into panic. I also don’t want to go in the opposite direction - you’re hardly a lightweight when it comes to darkness, and you won’t appreciate being treated with kid gloves.

Hmm... Tricky...

But who else knows you like I do?

Fucking _no one_... that’s who.

So _no one_ has the understanding needed to give you what you want to experience...

Except your Tiger.

I gaze at you as I stroke you, allowing you to adjust to the sensation of my hand on your neck, the necessity of shallow breathing.

When your muscles relax slightly, I grin at you - and press harder. Eyes still fixed on yours. Stroking slightly harder.

“Yesss... just like that, baby...” I croon. “Fuck, Jim... you’re so hot, you’re going to get me hard as a rock again...”

 

 

_The hypoxia is getting to me... I'm feeling slightly high, the sensations on my cock amplified. My field of vision restricts to only your face, your eyes... looking down at me with such love, such concentration... and your hand moves and moves, and your hand on my neck presses harder, and my brain is getting emptier of all thoughts, only experiencing sensation..._

_Bloody hell. I should have tried this earlier. Such blessed quiet..._

_I'm starting to shiver as I feel my orgasm build, my hands digging into the sand of the beach._

 

 

Ohhh, you _like_ this... you are too hot for words. You’re so close...

I stroke harder... faster...

harder... faster...

harder... god, yes...

you give a muffled gasp, your body spasms...

“So beautiful...” I murmur, watching you writhe in the sand, feeling you moving against my hand...

 

 

_I'm coming - gasping as I do - I need breath -_

_I grab your hand, you release immediately, and the oxygen shoots to my brain. I shudder - fuck - fuck, so intense - *fuck* -_

_I moan my pleasure into the Mexican night, for the umpteenth time, here on this beach..._

_My pleasure, my love..._

 

 

I watch enraptured as you come so hard, moaning and shivering underneath me.

“That... was fucking gorgeous... and so bloody hot... ” I say in awe, stroking your face as you pant. “Fuck, baby...”

 

 

_"Fucking hell..." I gasp, my throat raw. "Wow. That was - interesting. You're selfish, Tiger... keeping these sensations to yourself..."_

 

 

“Whaat?” I ask playfully. “If by selfish, you mean wanting to stay alive... then yeah. Imagine how you would have reacted if I’d suggested _choking_ you... You’d have been cleaning Tiger from the walls for a week. You had to discover this for yourself, my sweet...”

 

 

_"Like I would ever clean walls... I'd just have moved," I scoff, waving my hand. I cough. There is that - probably not a good idea to do this too often. The good thing is that you don't only know exactly how to kill someone, but also exactly how to not kill someone, so I'm in the safest hands possible with you. Want to stay alive, hire a killer... always been my motto._

_"We should get back... Tezzy will be worried about us..." I make no move whatsoever._

 

 

“Yeah, we should...” I lie back against the sand and grin at you.

 

 

_"Hey. You're supposed to be the strong active one. I'm the indolent Kitten that gets carried wherever he wants..."_

_You're not moving. I sigh._

_"See, this is what happens when you let employees have a say in things... they end up doing whatever they want, and it's anarchy..."_

_I pull myself up. God knows what Tezzy has been up to. If Tigers are any indication, this villa brings out the destructive side of felines._

_"Come on, my lazy husband..."_

 

 

I groan, and haul myself up. “Hey. It’s been a big day... We fucked... dredged up old wounds and cried... you had a belated birthday spanking... we discussed revenge against our dads... I was chastised, whipped and fucked... you got your birthday kitten, and we went to the vet and pet supply store... went jogging, dredged up more wounds and cried,... and then finished off with some choking and wanking... is it any wonder I’m feeling lazy now?”

I sling an arm around your shoulder, kiss your forehead, and we start walking towards the house. “It’s been a fucking Intense day... but I feel like I can face anything when I’m with you...”

 

 

_Awwwww my cute Tiger. Ok, when you put it like that... it’s been quite the day._

_Productive though..._

_Though - I can’t believe how good I am at deceiving myself. It’s really quite disconcerting. How much more is in there, hidden away because it was inconvenient?_

_But as long as it doesn’t affect you, I don’t really care…_

 


	9. The Most Dangerous Kitten in Mahahual

We reach the house, and I open the sliding door.

“Tezzy?” you call out.

No answer, but then... he’s not a dog, is he?

Of course you start looking distressed immediately. Aww... poor Kitten worried for his kitten.

“He’s fine, Jim...” I jerk my head towards the living room. “He’s got his food and beds and toys...”

 

 

_I carefully close the outside door before opening the living room door. I had kind of expected a happy greeting, but there's nothing._

_"Tezzy?" I call. "Kitty kitty kitty..."_

_I look under the cupboard where we left him, in the carrier, in the house in the tower, no joy. I feel panic coming up, when you say "Jim..." and motion me over. A tiny circle of grey is curled up in the cardboard box that the cat bed came in._

_Typical._

_I touch his neck and am rewarded with a 'prt?' and a shake of a tiny head, followed by a massive yawn._

_"Hi there Tezzy! Did you have a nice nap? Daddy and Tigerdaddy didn't abandon you... we went jogging - and some other things that I'll explain when you're older."_

_I scratch his neck and he purrs, then decides his left hip needs thorough cleaning. I haven't seen any fleas since we've come back from the vet - hopefully they're all good and dead._

_I notice that the sofa has some more loose threads than when we left. I hope you don't see it... this is your villa, after all..._

 

 

We hunker down on the floor to play with Tezzy. You are so in your element, it’s amazing... you’re cooing, and gently stroking, and chuckling when Tez flips onto his back and kicks your hand with his back feet.

The kitty is adorable, but watching you is mesmerizing...

Still, I can’t help but arch an eyebrow when I see the scratch marks on the sofa... you and the kitty are both little hellions.

But you’re _my_ little hellions...

 

 

_“Who’s got a big fat belly then? You have! You do! Yes!!!”_

_Tezzy is valiantly defending himself with his razor-sharp little front claws digging into my fingers as I’m attacking his round little belly. I can feel you looking..._

_“He needs to practise his attack moves,” I explain. “When he’s caught his prey, he will hold it in his front feet and shred it with his back feet - but notice how he’s not got his back claws out when he attacks my hand, or I’d be in tatters. He sees us as family - he’d normally play like this with his siblings._

_Whaaaaa, no, Tezzy, I am allowed to take my hand back, let *go*...”_

_I’m trying to pull my hand back but Tez is digging in with his little needles._

 

 

I listen with pleasure as you explain kitten behaviour to me. Then I dive in to your rescue when Tezzy impales you with his tiny needle-claws.

“Nono, Tez... we don’t do that to Daddy...” I say firmly, dislodging his claws from your hand, and then holding him up by the scruff. I support his little rump and look him in the eyes. “you want to pick on someone who doesn’t mind being scratched up, you attack Tigerdaddy... Got it?”

He squeaks at me, and lazily swipes at me with a paw.

I laugh. “Understood. You’re full of piss and vinegar, and you need to attack things sometimes. You are clearly in the right place,” I kiss his head, and he squeaks at me again.

I gently let him down, and he starts attacking his own tail. “There you go...”

I see you looking at me and I grin.

“I always loved playing with my gran’s kitties growing up, but I certainly wasn’t allowed a cat or dog growing up in Moran Manor... my father couldn’t bear his precious belongings being less than perfect. But I made sure to leave as many marks as I could as an adolescent, and succeeded in being far more destructive than a cat or dog _ever_ could. But you know very well how destructive Tigers can be, don’t you baby?”

 

 

_Awww, look at my two kitties... so adorable, both of you..._

_"Yes, I am well aware of the innate destructiveness of Tigers... if you were a fraction as ravaging in your dad's house as you are in your own, I pity him._

_Oh no, wait. He's a dick. I don't._

_I'd have taken him for the type to have dogs, though. Something to shout at that cowers around his feet..._

_Anyway. Let's not spoil the atmosphere by talking about Lord Augustus. We don't like him, do we, Tezzy?"_

_Tezzy's chasing a speck of thin air through the living room, skidding on the floor, then jumping onto the sofa, where he sits looking at us._

_"Well, that's the hierarchy determined... Sir sits on the sofa, and his loyal servants on the floor._

_Excuse me, young master. You may not have heard as of yet, but I am the Queen Bee around here..."_

_Tezzy acknowledges this by falling over and closing his eyes._

_"Kittens have only two modes - fast forward or sleep..." I sigh._

 

 

“They do,” I agree. “Speaking of which... are you ready for sleep, darling? And do you want to bring a cat bed into the bedroom?”

 

 

_“We were going to have a beer, weren’t we? Mine’s a rum and coke.”_

_I lie back on the floor as you head to the kitchen, waking Tezzy. He sees me on the floor, jumps down and runs over to me, attacking a strand of my hair and chewing it, then digging into my head before galloping over my chest and attacking my moving finger._

_You come back with our drinks and some nuts, and grab a treat for Tezzy, dangle it in the air. He shows his remarkable aerial skills by jumping three feet straight into the air and grabbing it from your hand, then landing on his feet between us._

_Then you dangle a peanut two feet over my face, but I just give you the finger. Tez however thinks it’s another treat and grabs your fingers, making you drop the peanut so both it and Tez land on my face. He’s careful not to scratch me, but I yelp nonetheless and bolt upright._

 

 

"You're a little firecracker, aren't you..." I chuckle at Tezzy's antics. "Just like your Daddy."

I lean against the sofa, grinning at you. "If he sleeps with us, he's definitely going to wake us up. Your call, babe..."

 

 

_"Of course he is going to sleep with us," I decree. "He'd be so lonely over here... I wonder where his siblings are..."_

_I consider a search party, but somehow don't think you'll be universally enamoured with the idea._

 

 

Siblings? There aren't going to be any other kittens showing up are there, are there??

"Maybe when Tezzy is a bit older... we can consider adding another kitty to our family..." I relent.

Family. Huh. Seems strange to think it, but I guess that's what we are...

"Our sweet little crime family has more than enough feline temperaments for the moment..." I grin at you, and caress your leg. "Bit weird to think of the future, isn't it? I never really planned for it before. I just always assumed I'd be killed in action, and that would be that. No use planning for a future I didn't have..."

I rub my face against your perfect, beautiful leg... "I'd better be sure there's plenty of coffee..." I murmur. "Wouldn't want to run out after a restless kitten night..."

 

 

_"Ooooh, can we can we can we can we!?" I shout excitedly and wide-eyed. Then I remember that I'm in charge. We can have as many cats as I want. Why did we never have cats? That was *you*, wasn't it. Making perfectly reasonable comments about how we were away half the time and we couldn't very well get a catsitter to our apartment. Damn you and your valid arguments._

_But now - we are a - family?_

_Oh god - we are -_

_You're sitting there, stroking my leg, and Tezzy is curled up on my trousers and oh god here come the waterworks again. It must be a honeymoon thing._

_"Darling - Jim, baby, what's wrong?" you startle, and reach out to me._

_"Nothing - just -" I swallow, "I - killed my family, and I never - I never thought I'd have another family - of course not - I never let anyone get to me - and - look at me now..."_

_I chuckle through the tears streaming down my cheeks._

 

 

"Look at you now... so full of love, it's spilling over?" I smile at you adoringly, and stroke your cheek. "That's what you are, Jim darling... full of love. And a rather integral part of this family..." I lean over and kiss your tears. "I'm sorry about ruining your attempt at being untouchable... it _was_ a valiant effort, Kitten. But god, I must have been _relentless_..."

 

 

_"Me - full of love?" I snort. "It does look like it... you horrible, horrible person. *No one* could get to me. I was cold, unfeeling, untouchable. And then *you* turned up. With your irresistible good looks and your irresistible good skills... getting into my home, my body, my personal space... my heart... all of which were *off limits*! But you just waltzed right in, like I hadn't spent thirty years putting unassailable defences into place, just melting them away with your smile... that fucking smile..."_

_You smile. More teeth than should be humanly possible radiate your pleasure at me._

_"Yes. That smile exactly."_

 

 

Awww. My sweet psycho...

I pretend to scowl. "What a terrible employee I was... so inconsiderate, making you feel like that! If only you had known what was going to happen... then you could have given me direct orders, and avoided all of these monstrous feelings: Don't fall in love with your boss! Don't be so damn irresistible! And for fuck's sake, stop smiling, Tiger!!"

I stare at you and try to hold onto my scowl... within moments, I have failed and am sniggering helplessly into your shoulder. "Then you could have punished me when I failed on all counts..." I grin.

 

 

_"Oh, I punished, you, alright... but then your moans and cries were *even more irresistible* than that blasted smile! Your body bearing my marks so much hotter than when it was just your battle scars... your eyes looking up at me all dark and full of lust and pain... fuck, how could *anyone* resist *that*!? I swear, if you had been designed by some scientist paid by my enemies to push all my buttons, they couldn't have made you any more perfect._

_Admit it Tiger... were you? Are you in fact not human, but an android designed to defeat the supervillain? With your adorable sidekick?"_

 

 

I laugh maniacally. “Well, I could deny it, but how will you know I’m not just a lying android? I’m afraid it will take a thorough inspection to prove that I’m in fact an irresistible human... and my adorable sidekick doesn’t seem too troubled, either...” Tezzy had woken up when I laughed, and squeaks in displeasure. He looks up at me quizzically, before licking me, licking his paw, and falling back asleep.

 

 

_"No, Tez, we like Tigerdaddy laughing... Tigerdaddy spent too much of his life not laughing. I hope you'll get used to it... hear it so often." I smile at you._

_"Look at us, Tiger. No really, *look* at us." I gesture at the three of us. "Stretched out on a sofa with a drink and a baby... the very epitome of domestic bliss. James and Sebastian Moriarty, the two most dangerous men in London. And Tezcatlipoca Lambert, according to his passport, but really Tezcatlipoca Moriarty, the most dangerous kitten in Mahahual. If you take a picture of this it's got you set up for life in blackmail money..."_

 

 

“I’m looking, Jim...” I smile at you fondly. “It’s amazing to me that everything feels different with the addition of something so tiny.” I gently touch Tezzy’s paw, and he rolls over onto his back and stretches out in his sleep. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing. “Kittens must be magic,” I stage-whisper.

 

 

_“Of course they are. That’s why you call me Kitten. Because I’m magic, and cute, and lethal, and adorable...”_

_I look down at Tez. Such a cutie..._

_“If I keep him on my lap, you can carry us both to the bedroom at the same time Tiger - how about that?”_

 

 

"Of course, my sweet darlings... Tezzy is the weight of a feather. And you know how much I love carrying you... ready?"

"No! Wait!" you panic, and start to fuss about his placement in your lap. Tezzy slumbers on, blissfully unaware.

"He's not going to fall, Jim," I reassure you. "You can hold him in place - look, he's sleeping like a drunken Tiger..."

You scowl, fret some more, and then cautiously give me the go-ahead.

I lift you effortlessly, wink, and take our little family safely into the bedroom.

 

 

_"I see a small flaw in my plan..." I consider as I'm comfortably on the bed with a stubbornly pretend-sleeping Tez who has his nails firmly in the cloth of my trousers. "We really need a shower..." I look at the kitten. “Will I be able to worm out of my trousers without disturbing him?”_

 

 

"Let me try..." I use my finger to slowly dislodge needle-like kitten claws from the fabric, one at a time... "I have years of experience..." I say, concentrating. "...handling Kittens..." I remove the last claw, triumphantly. Then slowly I lift Tezzy who protest-squeaks with closed eyes, and I gently place him against the pillow. I stroke his silky head and ears, cooing. "It's ok, Tezzy... we'll be back very soon..."

I look up at you gazing at me. "What?"

 

 

_"I'm *pretty* sure you've never eased my nails from inside a surface," I say. "Methinks that particular experience stems more probably from your grandmothers' cats."_

_I feel bad leaving poor Tezzy on his own, but he won't want to join us in the shower, and we definitely need one, so we'll have to. I stop you from closing the door. "If he wakes up and is scared alone, he needs to be able to find us."_

 

 

"Alright, but I'm sure he'll be fine. He was on his own for a lot longer when we were jogging and crying on the beach. He's going to learn quite quickly that his daddies have crying fits with some frequency..." I smile at you wryly, as we shed our clothes and get into the steaming shower.

"I keep thinking that will change," I remark as I lather your hair. "The weeping. I have no idea any more... if it's because everything is still so new, and we're making up for not feeling anything for years... or if this is what we're actually like now..." I chuckle.

"I still have no clue how we're going to balance work and our marriage - it's been rather demanding. In a positively exciting, wonderful, intoxicating way," I assure you quickly. "So much so that I find it difficult to think of anything else!" I pull you closer to kiss you softly. "Except Tezzy now, of course..."

 

 

_"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes kitten in a kitty carriage," I sing-song._

_"I don't know, Tiger... it's so odd, normally I'd be the first one to jump at the thought of going back to work, and now I'm like - yeah, not really ready yet, the empire will keep... Steve's alright, he'll keep it ticking along if not do anything truly spectacular. And it just seems - yesterday's news. A bit like - sorry - like when I get obsessed with one thing, like with Sherlock - I didn't really think about the Empire any more, left all that to you. Now I'm obsessed with you - I mean, I was back then as well, just didn't know it, and transferred it to Holmes Junior - and - again, the Empire just seems not very relevant, you know? Like - what did I work all those years for, accumulate all that money for, if not to have an endless honeymoon with the world's best husband?_

_Not that I don't think I'll want to get back to work - of course I will, we're both active, ambitious, young - I'll want to prove that I'm better than everybody else again soon enough. Just - not quite right this instant."_

_I look up as you rinse the shampoo out of my hair. "What about you, Tiger?"_

_Look at that. I'm asking your opinion. All unbidden. And I'm *actually* interested._

 

 

"Hmmm..." I consider this while I luxuriously lather conditioner into your hair. My fingers caress your scalp, and you sigh with pleasure.

"Honestly, I keep having these moments of panic about being away from work. But maybe it's because my entire adult life was all about work and having a mission... and it was all-encompassing, it was who _I was_. Now for life to be about my relationship... it's a strange transition, but - a welcome one." I kiss your forehead.

"I guess - I'm enjoying the break," I say with surprise. "I'm enjoying life being about _us_... and - I'm also a little scared of what it will mean... Will I have the edge and killer instinct I used to if I'm away for too long?"

There. I've voiced the secret fear that's been chewing on me in moments of panic.

I stare at you in silence and you look back at me, eyes searching mine. Water streams down our faces.

 

 

_I am about to dismiss this as nonsense when I see your face. Hold on... you’re actually scared of this._

_“Sweetheart... when those angry gangsters entered our house, you’d been on holiday for quite a bit *and* you were injured. Did you lack any of your edge and killer instinct? Didn’t look like it to me..._

_Bane was a dangerous killer who had the same background and training as you *and* a full team of cronies. Not a hair on my head was harmed._

_You’re a killer deeper down than anyone I’ve ever met, myself excepted. Your reflexes and instincts have been drilled into you so much they’re not even second nature but first. I don’t want to think about how often poor Tezzy is going to get a gun put to his head because you heard a suspicious sound in the bedroom..._

_I am extremely observant – shush, I am *now*, and I’d have noticed if you’d lost your edge. But... is there any way you’d like to test it? Or do you *want* to go back?”_

 

 

I stare at you for a long moment, thinking. Do I really want to go back?

"Well, now that I have this vengeance against my dad to look forward to, part of me is ready to go back. But there's no rush... I just don't want the fucker to die before I can look him in the face and tell him exactly what I think of him... and share the good news about how he's going to help blow up Parliament..." I chuckle, despite myself.

"As for the rest... I guess you're right. I was tested with the home invasion, and I was tested with Bain and his men. There was no doubt in my mind that I could neutralize them - I was only worried about doing it in time to protect you, but you're hardly a damsel in distress, and it all worked out fine. If anything, when I'm out in the world I have to * _tamp down*_ on my instincts... to keep from killing people who * _could be*_ a threat."

I stroke your face. "If you're not concerned about the Empire, then neither am I. I'm over the moon to just be spending time with you... being madly in love with you... being married to you..." I say softly. "I'd have to be an idiot to cut that short out of a sense of duty and obligation to the Empire. My mission is what it's always been - you."

 

 

_“Sebastian – even if worst came to worst; say Holmes senior got involved, and the entire empire was dismantled - very low chance of that happening, but say it did - even then, we’d be fine - we’ll take over some cartel here, or go to whichever other country you please and start again there. We are not *dependent* on the Empire. Only each other.”_

_I stroke your face._

_“Anyway, the chance is extremely slim that anything would happen. Sherlock has been biting away at the edges like an angry yappy dog, but not done much damage to the core. And Mycroft knows to leave it alone, or unleash more trouble than it’s worth._

_I made sure plenty of safeguards were in place before I left..._

_I didn’t want you to get in any trouble._

_So all should be fine. Let’s focus on us - see if we can have dinner tomorrow like civilized people, and if we can go a week without a meltdown, before talking of going back. The world will have to wait.”_

_You smile, and seem convinced. Good._

_We exit the shower and towel ourselves dry. I’m doing my armpit, when all of a sudden my shin is pierced by eighteen needles, which are rapidly making their way up my leg._

_I yowl and kick my leg, trying to dislodge a kitten who is determined to catch my towel, only managing to get him to dig in deeper._

_You are fast as ever, diving down and grabbing Tez, pulling him off my leg - but as he had his little claws dug in, that leaves me with a nice set of bleeding punctures._

 

 

I lift Tezzy off your leg, and hold him up at eye level by the scruff.

"Do we need to have another little talk, sweetheart? What did I say about not attacking Daddy?"

Tezzy blinks and begins to purr.

I look at you and sigh with amusement. "I've never raised a kitten, Jim... kind of flying blind here..."

I bring Tezzy to my chest and support his tiny, furry rump. "Alright, it's been a big day, and we're all tired. We'll have another talk tomorrow... shall we three to bed?"

 

 

_I stare at you, open-mouthed._

_You and Tez look back. "What?" you ask._

_"I can't believe - this is the first time that anyone has ever attacked me - made me bleed! - and you just - *cuddle* them and take them to bed - you're right, Tiger. Definitely lost your killer instinct..."_

_You both have the decency to look sheepish. Oh god you are too alike and too cute..._

_I start grinning, and you smile back. "Like I could ever get mad at little Tez... but maybe we should keep him out of the shower until he's aware that daddies are not for climbing on._

_Want to clean my wounds? I'm up to date on my tetanus shots, but kitten claws can hide nasty stuff. Put Wolverine there on the bed..."_

 

 

I gently toss Tez onto the bed and he lands with a soft thump - and then begins to attack wrinkles in the duvet.

"Did you just... _throw_ our new kitten?" you ask, in disbelief.

I watch Tez fall to his side and start to bite and kick the rumpled duvet.

"He seems traumatized, doesn't he," I say drily, then gather supplies. "Right, you - assume the position..." I gesture at the bathtub.

You sit on the edge of the tub, and I kneel on the floor in front of you.

I clean and disinfect your puncture wounds carefully. "Cat scratch fever isn't just a song... it's going to be difficult to avoid scratches from our little hellion, but just keep an eye on any wounds. Lucky we were able to get him to the vet before they closed... and he didn't find anything problematic other than fleas, which seem to have disappeared already. So you should be fine, but let's be mindful..."

I caress your leg. "All done, babe..."

I look up at you from the floor, and continue to stroke your calf, admiring the muscles, the softness of your skin. I have moments when I'm almost in shock that I'm just allowed to touch you like this now... that I can call you _babe_ as I clean your wounds.. admit to my fears in the shower... cry in your arms on the beach...

I kiss your calf, and gaze at you.

 

 

_Sweet sweet Tiger..._

_Such devotion to anything to do with me, whether it’s cleaning wounds or caressing my leg - you do it all with such attention, like it’s the only thing in the world that matters._

_I love you for that._

_“I love you, Sebastian...”_

_It feels like it’s so long since I’ve said that. It isn’t. It just feels too long._

_You look at me with your beautiful large eyes, blue-grey in this light, and smile; not your beaming huge smile, but a more intimate one, small, happy. Contented._

_I reach out and stroke your hair._

_“Bed?”_

_So often asked in a different way, in a different tone. But now really all I want is to lie down in a soft warm dark corner of the night with your arm around me and a purring kitten on my chest._

_I don’t recognize this man I am being. But I absolutely love being him._

 

 

My hearts melts at your tone - such softness and longing... I'm still not used to this side of you, and it's a rush of pleasure every time.

You want to be in bed snuggling with your Tiger and new kitten, and I'm only too happy to be able to give this to you. There's nothing that I want more in this moment than to bask in your contentedness. My sweet psychopath who has lived in a prison of coldness and unconscious torment for so long...

"I love you too, my Jim... so much."

I stand, and give you my hand. " Bed," I affirm. "Before Tezzy shreds the duvet out of boredom..."

I pull you up and lead you to the bedroom.

"Bedtime, little monster..." I say softly.

"I hope that was meant for Tez," you say behind me in a mock indignant voice.

Tezzy is trying to burrow under the blankets, and looks up at us with half-closed eyes.

"Works for either of you, really..." I say innocently, then grab you when you cuff me in the back of the head.

I scoop you up playfully and carry you to bed. When I lay you down, Tez promptly pounces on your arm.

"Simmer down, monsters..." I grin, crawling into bed next to you. "It's time for sleep..."

I lie down, and pull you against me, sighing. "Hell of a day," I murmur into your shoulder. "I feel like I could sleep for a week..."

 

 

_"God, yes..." I reply._

_I can't believe it was only this morning that - I realized what had been driving me... that it had always been you... my Sebastian, my Tiger, my love._

_I sigh, lean my head upon your shoulder. Tez decides he wants in on the snuggling action and tries to get in between you and me, digging in with his nails, so you pull him off and put him on the blanket, but he's back in a second. You repeat the removal, he repeats the return. This could take a long time..._

_I move the blanket in between us, and he tries to snuggle into my neck, making sucking noises - "Aw, Tiger, he thinks I'm his mam..."_

 

 

I watch the kitten's antics, chuckling.

Awww... you're both so adorable.

"Well... I suppose you're the closest thing, babe..." I grin at you. God. The criminal underworld wouldn't believe this. The fucking Holmes brothers would _never_ believe this... if they ever saw footage they'd assume it was doctored. How ever could they see you as the devil incarnate if you were cooing over a sweet kitten with his nose buried in your neck?

"So... want to me to leave him there, or... try to move him again?" I ask, scratching my head. Just when I have an idea of how to handle _one_ adorable tyrant in my life...

 

 

_"Move him!?" How can you suggest such a thing?! "When the poor thing is missing his mammy and cuddling up to his new mammy looking for... succour... pun not intended..." I giggle, not disturbing Tez in the slightest._

_"Nah, he'll fall asleep soon... he's purring so much, can't disturb him," I say, but then Tez begins to knead my neck. "No, little pudding - I have no milk ducts I'm afraid, and those little claws *really* shouldn't..." I move his little feet back, but then he starts kneading my fingers. At least that's bearable. I'm sure he'll stop soon._

_"Night, felines..."_

 

 

“Night, Jim... night, new little monster...” I murmur, and grin as you cuff the back of my head. I watch through drowsy eyes as Tezzy continues to knead your fingers. As I hear the gentle suckling of your neck, loud purring, and gentle cooing from you, my eyelids feel like they’re being tugged down by a cord.

And then I’m submerged in darkness, still aware of your skin against mine, and purring...

And then - falling into the feathery blackness…

 

 

_Tezzy is *not* stopping his assault on my fingers and neck. I'm going to look like you've gone mad with the love bites. I try to move him quietly but he keeps coming back. Damn it - eventually I manage to nudge him towards my hair, which he loves even more. I finally fall asleep with a kitten purring loudly whilst suckling my scalp._

_I don't want to know what kind of dreams I'll have..._

 

 

I find myself waking up frequently to check on Tez... tomorrow's going to be a bitch, but then... it's not like I have anything more strenuous to do than going out to dinner. Coffee and naps will get me through the day. God, what a life... I could get used to this. I move closer to you, grinning. Tezzy opens his mouth to squeak but no sound comes out. He rolls over on the pillow, stretching out his legs and tiny toes. Then he promptly falls asleep on his back, all four paws curling inward.

Jesus, he really is cute... just like his daddy...

I close my eyes too, and soon all thoughts of kittens and Kittens fade away.


	10. Drown out the Caterwauling and Let's Fuck

_I wake up occasionally because of Tez attacking my toes or fingers, or on one occasion just walking over my face, making me splutter, but I'm back off to sleep quickly each time._

_At one point I startle awake because I feel you stiffen and grab your gun, scanning the room, gun pointed at the wastepaper basket. I let out a low chuckle. "Called it..."_

_The basket falls over and a kitten rolls out._

 

 

I cover my eyes with my hand. "Jesus..."

I put the gun on the bedside table with a thump. "Sorry, babe..." I say sheepishly. "Didn't mean to threaten Tez with a gun..."

 

 

_"Just showing you're not losing your edge at all. You heard an unfamiliar sound in the bedroom, you wake up and have your gun aimed at the source of the sound even before you're fully awake. You're my perfect killer," I snuggle up to you._

_"You tried to shoot me a couple of times when we were first sleeping together. You'll get used to Tez as well, and only wake up when there's a sound that *isn't* Tez or me."_

_Tez, completely oblivious of the bullet he's just dodged, happily climbs onto the bed and attacks your toes._

 

 

"Ow! No claws, Tezzy!" I sit up and grab the kitten and hold him up. "No," I say firmly, and he wriggles in my grasp. I lie back down, placing him on my chest.

"Yeah, it's just... shooting you would have been bad enough, but the thought of-" I stroke Tezzy's little furry head. He closes his eyes and sprawls over me. I groan softly. "I hope I acclimatize to crazy kitten sounds _fast_..."

 

 

_I snigger. "You should really know better than to attempt training a kitten..."_

_You sigh theatrically. I don't challenge your implied statement that shooting Tezzy would have been worse than shooting me - of *course* it would have been... but you wouldn't. You don't shoot before you know what you're shooting._

 

 

“Well, I certainly never would have dreamed of attempting it with any other Kittens I know. I was far too busy being trained myself...” I raise an eyebrow, and give you a lazy seductive smile.

 

 

_Oh, of course. Sebastian is awake. So Little Seb wants to play._

_I'm half-sleepy still but half-sleepy sex can be fun. I pull you close, kiss you, move myself against you._

 

 

Oh... hello...

Tezzy has awoken, got up indignantly, and promptly fallen asleep on a pillow next to my head.

"Well, he's going to either leave in a huff or sleep through the whole thing..." I murmur, and pull you down for a deeper kiss.

 

 

_Sleepy Tiger smells like nothing else in this world... like old smoke, forgotten beer, warm arms, security, love, sunshine on skin, endless mornings in between dream and reality..._

_Your tongue in my mouth, my tongue exploring yours, our stiffening cocks rubbing against each other, as always delighted with each other..._

_"Fuck - Tez!" exclaimed in my ear by a startled Sebastian, reaching up and fishing a kitten off your side._

_You move him back to the pillow, but he jumps straight back onto your shoulder - your naked shoulder, with all his little claws out._

 

 

“Tezzy!” I shout sharply, and the kitten falls over in surprise, then races across the bed and looks back at me. “If you can’t keep your claws to yourself, I’ll be taking you to the living room,” I warn.

Tezzy licks his paw, and then settles down for a bath.

I look back at you, sighing. “Well, this should be fun...”

 

 

_“Stay there, Tez,” I say, for the first time in my adult life knowing my order will be completely ignored._

_I turn back to my Tiger, but Tez seems to think that my toes moving are specially for him and attacks with full gusto._

_I sigh, look at you. You sit up, grab the kitten, and carry him outside the bedroom. “Sorry Tez, but daddy and Tigerdaddy are planning to engage in some non-family-friendly activities... you just cover your little ears and we’ll let you back in after.”_

_You close the door behind you._

_You have just got back into bed when the meowing starts._

 

 

I cover my eyes, groaning. "Oh god... What do you want to do, Jim?"

I want to say he has to learn sometime... but he's so young... so I'll leave this up to you.

 

 

_Oh god... why did I want a kitten, again? I mean - he's cute and adorable and I love him, but -_

_"Let's give him five minutes; he'll get tired and go to sleep..."_

_He doesn't. If anything, he gets louder._

 

 

I bang my head back against the headboard. “Do we need a ‘Drown out the caterwauling and let’s fuck’ playlist?” I grin, looking at you closely. “Or are you feeling guilty?”

 

 

_"Yes... no! I will not spend the rest of my life not touching my hot hot husband because my kitten demands attention at all times."_

_I don't want to think about how long he's been meowing when we were jogging earlier though..._

_"Let him back in for now. We'll try again in the morning."_

 

 

I look at you in disbelief. I knew it was a possibility, but... really?? I groan loudly as I trudge to the door.

“So our sex life is being dictated by the fluffy little monster now?” I open the door, eyeing the mewling grey creature that pokes his head in. “Yes, I’m talking about _you_ , dearest...”

Tez looks up me and doesn’t come in any farther.

“Jesus,” I sigh, and scoop him up. He lays his little head against my shoulder and I curse. “Nature knew what she was doing when she designed kittens... didn’t she, darling?” I say wryly as I bring Tezzy to you. “It’s impossible to stay angry at them... even when _they’re_ being impossible...”

I deposit Tez in your arms, and climb into bed next to you.

 

 

_"You should be used to your sex life being dictated by a cute little monster," I shrug, cuddling Tezzy, who happily starts attacking my hair again. I snuggle up to you. "You can make a playlist in the morning..." I say lazily, and fall asleep surrounded by my two adorable kitties._

 

 

I watch you as you drift off. Leaving me alone with our new kitten, who looks at me inquisitively.

"Well, we're off to a great start," I grumble. "Let's get down to business, Tezcatlipoca - _Mano a pata_."

I fist-bump his tiny paw, and he lifts it, the picture of a lazy feline contemplating violence.

"I will protect you and love you, give you food, affection, treats, toys... I'll install cat walls and cat trees, I will turn Guarida del Tigre into Kitten Shangri-La, if that's what it takes. Just don't cockblock me, I _implore_ you..."

Tez stares at me with huge eyes.

"From one feline to another, Tezzy... do we have an understanding?"

He squeaks, and I shake my head, chuckling softly. "I only speak Tiger, darling... so I'm not sure if that was 'Sure thing, mate' or 'nice try, Tigerdaddy'... but I'm leaning towards blind optimism. Pleasure negotiating with you..." I take his paw very gently. He stares in fascination as I move it up and down, then looks back at me. His paw curls around my fingers, and I find myself in awe of how _moving_ such a simple gesture is... especially to a hardened criminal like Sebastian fucking Moran.

"Your cuteness knows no bounds," I say, my voice suddenly hoarse. "You get that from your daddy..."

He blinks at me and I grin. "Now - if you let us sleep some more, your future will be rubs and treats instead of being tossed in the sea. _Capisce_?"

Tezzy yawns and looks at me haughtily, as if to say 'Who are you kidding? You will bow to my whims, Tigerdaddy...'

"Yeah yeah, tell me something I don't know," I growl affectionately, and stroke his furry cheek. He closes his eyes blissfully, and settles on my chest. Between Tez on my chest and you sleeping against my shoulder, apparently I'm not straying from this position.

" _Kittens_ ," I grumble, closing my eyes as my heart glows.

 

 

_As I wake up again, it's getting light. I'm stiff - I need to roll over - why didn't I roll over in my sleep? Wait - there's something on my hip - what?_

_Oh yes! I'm suddenly wide awake. *Kitten!!!*_

_I turn slowly, trying not to unbalance Tezzy, but he wakes up, shakes his little face, and trots up to my head._

_"Hey Tezzy," I smile. "Did you sleep well?"_

_He starts purring and licking my chin. I giggle, then feel a stirring beside me._

_"Now look what you've done - you've woken the Tiger..."_

 

 

I roll over to see you having a sweet moment with Tez.

Aww. _Jim._

Of course I'd like to have _my own_ sweet moment with a Kitten... and then a not-so-sweet series of moments, maybe for the rest of the morning? But - Tezzy is new and young, and well, there's plenty of time for us to get down and dirty, I remind myself.

God, patience is _not_ one of my strengths... not when it comes to pleasure.

"Why don't I feed our little monster? And then I'll come back to bed," I say innocently. While stroking your thigh, not so innocently.

 

 

_"Hmmmm..." I grin, relishing the feeling of your fingers on my thigh... and where those fingers are going... "Why don't you... give him some lovely food that will make him nice and sleepy... and make me some coffee, if you can manage..."_

 

 

I gaze at you like I want to eat you alive, lick my lips, and slowly remove my hand.

The kitten is scooped up, and I walk out crooning, "You are going to get so much delicious breakfast, Tezzy..."

He mews, and I stroke his soft cheek. "I know, honey, I know... you want it _right now_... believe me, Tigerdaddy understands..." I flash a hungry smile at you before I disappear from the room.

In the kitchen, Tezzy is winding around my ankles, his mewling growing louder as I open a can of gourmet kitten food, scoop out the contents into one bowl, and add a helping of biscuits in another bowl. As he sniffs each bowl, and then starts nibbling at the small mound of chicken and salmon chunks, I quickly start the coffee.

"Right, you," I growl at the coffee machine. "I do _not_ have time for your usual fun little games. Just spit out the damn coffee if you don't want to end up binned..."

Jesus... first the kitten, now the coffee maker. I'm in serious need of some alone time with my man.

"Don't play with the biscuits, Tezzy," I sigh. "That's for eating..."

I refresh his water bowl, then stand at the counter glaring at the coffee maker as it churns and bubbles. Coffee shoots out dramatically and I catch the spray in one mug, then another.

"Why, _thank you_..." I say through my teeth, wiping the searingly hot drops that hit my skin. I quickly add sugar to yours, as I watch Tez ignore the biscuits and start to play with a plush goldfish.

"Good boy," I croon. "You get that fish... and we'll be with you very soon, sweetie..."

Tez pounces on the bright orange fish, and begins to roll and kick with his back paws as he sinks his teeth into the crinkly material.

I creep slowly from the kitchen and breathe a sigh of relief when I enter the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind me.

"Coffee, darling..." I say airily, as though it had been the easiest thing in the world to escape the watchful eye and demanding will of the great Tezcatlipoca.

 

 

_"Why hello there, Tiger..." I grin as you enter the bedroom looking like you've just escaped from Alcatraz. You hand me my coffee and I sip it - "Well done - seems you've started to work out how to handle the machine?"_

_"Mmmm..." you murmur. "Want to know what else I'd like to handle?" You nuzzle into my neck. I put down my coffee, grab your hair, pull back your head. You moan softly, your eyes close, and I lean down to bite your neck._

_Just as I'm sucking your flesh in between my teeth you stiffen. As I'm about to ask what's wrong, I hear a heart wrenching *meowwww* outside the bedroom door, followed by a scratching._

_"Did you close the kitchen door?" I ask._

 

 

I cover my face with my hands. "Nooooo," I groan. "I thought he'd be upset locked up in a room - and he was having fun with his toy!"

I look at you pleadingly. "Are we ever going to fuck again??"

 

 

_I have to laugh at your desperate expression. Never change, Tiger... Send you to get shot at, no probs. Torture you for hours, sure. Make you walk fifty miles with full kit and no sleep, fine. But withhold sex for - I check the alarm - twelve hours, and you'll act like a kicked puppy._

_"I think *someone* needs to learn that his daddies need the occasional moment of privacy... and though I do appreciate how attached he's got to us, and I feel *terrible* about leaving him on his own, it would be so much crueller to deprive my beloved husband of the caresses he requires to survive," I grin. "If we give in now, he's going to keep it up until he's twenty. You go and put him in the kitchen, and I'll put on some music. He'll live."_

_The relief on your face is utterly cute. Meanwhile, the meowing and scrabbling at the door are getting increasingly frantic._

 

 

I move towards you as if to kiss you... then smile at you seductively and get up.

"Coming, Tezzy," I call out, walking to the door. I'm getting some alone time with you, and that's all I care about. Until I see his little face, and I feel a pang of guilt about locking him in a room.

This is ridiculous... I don't do emotions like guilt, well, except when it comes to you... and apparently now a tiny grey mewling creature - who looks smug about being picked up, and then annoyed when he's being carried away from the room he wants to go _into_...

"Sorry, Tez... I soothe. "Daddy and I will come fetch you _as soon_ as we're done." No promises how long we'll take, though...

Because I've been denied access to my baby since last night, and we need to seriously make up for lost time...

In the kitchen I rub Tezzy's head and give him back his plush goldfish... then I surreptitiously slide out the door, closing it quietly behind me. I hear a crinkling sound and I walk back to the room with determination. When I get to the bedroom, I kick the door shut behind me.

"No more interruptions..." I growl softly, and stalk towards you.

 

 

_“Oh my poor Tiger,” I grin, sipping my coffee. “Deprived from shooting his load for simply *hours*... what cruel fate your Kitten masters bestow upon you...”_

_“I’ll show you cruel fate,” you growl as you crawl up to me._

_“Careful of my coffee, Tiger,” I warn, but the cup is lifted out of my hand and disappears onto the bedside table. Apparently I have had enough._

_And then I have a mouthful of Tiger, and I have to admit, that is delectable indeed. Your hands are all over me, as are your lips... Mmmm, *feral* Tiger... I like this new side of you that I never used to let come out to play._

_I relax under your hands, let them grab and pull me close, let your lips devour me - “Careful Tiger, I’ve got enough bite marks as it is, what is Eduardo going to think -“_

_Your description of what Eduardo can do with his opinion should probably not be repeated at the dinner table tonight._

 

 

Feeling your lips against mine, your body under mine is like a dizzying, intoxicating dream.

“This ‘careful, Tiger’ business... I don’t know what you could mean...” Grinning, I yank your hips against mine.

“Don’t I always treat you like a treasure, baby?” I murmur into your neck, before biting it.

 

 

_"Hmmm... like a piñata..." I grin, feeling my cock rub against yours as the chords of Strangelove fill the room, to drown out any kitten sounds. I briefly feel guilty, but then - come on, we can't build our entire life around a kitten._

_But..._

_No, we can't! He's fine! He's got food and drink and toys and beds and he will get all the attention in the world after this - for now, I have another hungry feline that needs attention... and will wreck the place if he doesn't get it. I do know how to pick them..._

 

 

“A piñata...?” I _tsk_. “Darling... like I would ever pound you and ravish your sweet... wonderful... bits...” I whisper, kissing your earlobe. My hand closes over your hard cock, and I look at you innocently.

 

 

_"Like I would ever blindfold you..." I grin, then moan as your hand moves._

_"What do you want, Tiger? I'm feeling indulgent..."_

 

 

“Yeah, and if anyone is going to hit someone with a stick...” I grin at you. “Ohh... and I thought I was being obvious... I want to ravish your sweet, wonderful bits.” My voice deepens, and I crawl over you like the predatory cat that I am, hands landing on either side of your head with a soft _thump thump_.

 

 

_“Oooooh, *predatory* Tiger... hmmm...” I smile, stretching out underneath you, wrapping my arms around you._

_“Ravish, hey? Well, you are rather ravishing, so why not...”_

_I groan as you bend down over my neck and start biting - rawr. Aggressive Tiger..._

 

 

There’s a low, pleased rumbling in my throat as I lick and bite your neck... and again as I leave burning kisses down your chest and abdomen. I pause as I look down at your beautiful cock growing hard.

“And what do we have here?” I murmur. “I see something that requires my immediate attention...” My lips move down further, trailing kisses along your pelvis. Then my tongue slips out and slowly licks up your hard shaft.

“Oh... Jim...” I whisper, and press my lips to the head before closing them over your cock and sliding down, down, down...

 

 

_I do approve of your idea of ravishing. If the Vikings had done it in this way, they might have had less bad press._

_Oh fuck Tiger, your mouth... you are taking me in like you're devouring me, like you're starving and I'm the only thing capable of sating you, and you are, you poor thing, cockblocked by a kitten... I love how free you are now with me, happy to just do what you want, comfortable that I will say if I don't like something, rather than raise all hell._

 

 

I take my time, sliding my lips and tongue over the magnificent appendage that is your cock... How many times have I sucked you off by now? Countless... and it’s still one of my favourite things to do in all creation...

I let out a pleased groan, and grab your arse, pulling you closer... pulling you deeper...

Oh god... Jim...

 

 

_I adore the way that you just get so engrossed in sucking my cock - like it’s the most important thing in the world, which it is, of course, but it’s nice to have it recognized. And how much you *love* it - groaning with pleasure yourself, pushing me closer, your eyes closed in pure bliss -_

_and you are so fucking *good* at it. I’ll never get tired of you doing this, your mouth is divine..._

 

 

I look up and see you in the throes of pleasure, back arching, head falling back... then you lift your head to look at me, eyes burning with lust. And before I know it, I’ve released your cock, and I’m crawling back over you.

“God, I fucking want you...” I growl, and push your legs up against my chest. I grab the lube from the bedside table, and slather myself and your entrance.

And without further ado, I push my cock partly into your warm, surrendering body. I stop, eyes closing.

“Oh... baby... you feel so good...” I breathe. My eyes open again, and I stare at you as I start to push in deeper.

 

 

_Oh..._

_The Cure's Lullaby sounds through the room as you push inside me, and it's so hot, and I love you so much, and like each time I marvel at what the hell I was thinking hardly ever allowing this because it feels *so fucking good*..._

 

Be still be calm be quiet now my precious boy

Don't struggle like that or I will only love you more

 

 

The haunting melody washes over us, and our groans and gasps punctuate the music.

“Jim... this is a song about a dark being in the form of a spider devouring his prey,” I remark breathlessly, as I look down at you. You look at me innocently.

“Is this one of your sex playlists, darling?” I grin, thrusting into you and making you moan. “Am I in danger of being devoured?”

 

 

_"Yeah... starting here," I say, squeezing my muscles, making you groan._

_"It's my 'This Is Music That Seb And I Both Can Stand' playlist, but it can be a sex playlist if you want. It's doing its purpose of drowning out the caterwauling at least, and not turning either of us off - at least, I hope?"_

 

 

“Like I’ve ever been turned off by your darkness?” I murmur, staring at you as I fuck you harder. “I know very well what you are, baby...” I whisper, and my body heats up at the gleam in your eye.

God... the feeling of mounting a predator, _mating_ with him... the primal beast in me is aflame with lust.

“Oh fuck... Jim...” I breathe, gripping your hips and pounding into you.

 

 

_The Talking Heads' Psycho Killer starts up and I can't help but snigger, but then you are starting to fuck me in earnest and the background music could be Extreme Noise Terror for all I care - all I know is Tiger, Tiger eyes staring into mine, Tiger face contorting with pleasure, Tiger cock fucking me like only a Tiger can..._

_You are all around me, above me, inside me, and I let go, I just let go, it's so easy now... no more thinking, just riding the Tiger love..._

 

 

My lips are parted and I'm breathing hard as I fuck you... unable to tear my gaze away from your beautiful face.

"So - gorgeous -" I mutter. "God, baby - I can't - get enough of you..." I move my hand to your cock, already hard and so eager to be stroked the way you like -

firmly...

possessively...

_quickquickquickquick_

slow... slow... slow...

cycle after shivering cycle...

mmm...

I look at you, your half-closed eyes, your mouth partly open, as you pant with each thrust of my cock, each stroke of yours...

fuck...

"I'm close, baby..." I whisper. "So close..."

 

 

_Yes - yesyesyes, oh god you beautiful man, you marvellous creature... you know my cock *so well*, you know it better than I know it myself, you've certainly given it more orgasms... you can play me like an instrument, handle me like one of your guns, and I couldn't resist if I wanted to. You're pulling me up then letting me slowly come down again, driving me absolutely crazy with your hand and your cock..._

_"Me too," I pant, "Come, my darling - come with me - Tiger -"_

 

 

_Come with me - Tiger -_

Something I never would have heard in our past.

Something I never would have dreamed of...

"Fuck yes, I will," I whisper heatedly.

My pace and intensity increases as I fuck you and stroke you... relentlessly... without mercy...

Sounds in the bedroom are getting louder as springs creak, the headboard slams, and we both cry out, heady with lust and pleasure.

"You're so - fucking - hot -" I gasp into your neck before my orgasm tears through me - I hear myself howling my desire for you as my body dissolves into shuddering ecstasy.

 

 

_You crying out your pleasure is the final nudge I needed to reach Tiger-induced nirvana myself; I feel your warmth pouring out inside of me as my muscles clench and my own seed spills over your hand._

_We lie there, panting, you holding yourself up, your head hanging onto my chest, as Eye of the Tiger starts playing. We both burst out laughing simultaneously._

 

 

“Funny how it makes its way onto all your playlists,” I remark drily, then pull out of you with a groan. We stretch out in bed, sniggering.

The first verse is about to start, and I can’t help myself. I start to lip-synch with appropriately dramatic gestures.

 

_Risin' up, back on the street_

_Did my time, took my chances_

_Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet_

_Just a man and his will to survive_

 

I grasp your shoulders as I feign singing to you soulfully. Then I pretend to hand a mike to you as the verse wraps up. “And... go!”

 

 

_I'm in fits of giggles - just after an epic orgasm - look at me having all these *emotions*! Having fun! With you... None of this would be fun without you, Tiger. You make my life - happy._

_Oh, I'm handed an invisible mike - well, what kind of rock star would I be if I passed up this opportunity?_

_I sit up, lash out my arm,_

 

It's the - eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight

Rising up to the challenge of our rival

 

_I rise up on my knees,_

 

And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night

And he's watching us all with the eye...

 

_I lean my head back dramatically, then turn back to you,_

 

of the tiger

 

_I throw away the mike, and pounce on my tiger._

 

Face to face, out in the heat

Hanging tough, staying hungry

 

_I growl into your neck._

 

 

I watch enraptured as you rise to your knees - of course you go all out, my beautiful rock star... then suddenly you’re launching yourself at me, and I have an armful of Kitten... _growling_ Kitten...

I chuckle as I feel the reverberations through my skin, and then shiver.

“Mmm... Jim...” I murmur, smiling blissfully. “You feel good, baby...”

 

 

_"So do you, my Tiger... wow... married sex is the hottest *ever*..." I smile. The song ends and I think I hear indignant screaming coming from the kitchen._

_"Shall we let His Highness back into the room?"_

_You get up, stretch your beautiful body... mmm... mine... I feel I could purr and roll over in delight. Can't wait to show you off to Eduardo. Remember the bodyguard you used to drool over? Yeah... *husband*._

 

 

I pad to the kitchen, feeling blissful... it would have been nice not to have got up so soon but anyway... good opportunity to grab a snack and a drink. I open the door, and Tez comes shooting out as if escaping. Then he pauses when he sees me not chasing him... and trots back to wind around my ankles, purring and squeaking. I scratch his head and cheeks, and his purring grows louder.

“Did you come equipped with a small engine, Tezzy?” I croon, and grab a tray and throw on some crisps, cheese, sparkling water and cokes. Then with Tez behind me, scrambling wildly and occasionally taking a spill, I make my way back to the bedroom.

“Look who I found,” I call out, as Tez bursts into the room like a mad thing. I lay the tray on the bed, then scoop him up to toss him gently, and he runs straight to you.

Awww... my two kittens, reunited at last.

 

 

_An excited Tezcatlipoca comes hurtling into the room, followed by a Tiger with drinks and snacks. I still have cold coffee - it will have to do for now, I don't want to send you to fight The Machine again._

_Tezzy is desperately trying to get at the cheese, so I give him some. He sniffs it, then battles the small chunk across the sheets before he eats it, then sits licking his face bemusedly. I scratch his neck and ears and he purrs extravagantly - I've never heard such a loud kitten, either in meows or in purrs._

_We nibble our cheese, bravely battling kitten assaults on the plate, and drink coke and cold coffee._

_"I love being a family," I grin._

 

 

I grin back at you. “Weird that it just happened yesterday... I guess it was meant to be, huh, you mad little thing? Tez, I mean,” I wink at you as I rub Tezzy’s cheeks, sending him into paroxysms of delighted rolling and stretching. You on the other hand are far less impressed, and laughter bursts out of me. “Gonna make me pay for that, baby?” I purr.

 

 

_"Yes. Definitely. At some point in the near future. Too lazy now, and I guess if I tell you to whip yourself you're going to -"_

_You lift two fingers up at me, then resume petting Tezzy, " - yeah, that's what I thought. I really need to reinstate some discipline into this household... two unruly felines might just destroy the villa altogether..."_

_I pet Tez on the other cheek and he melts into a puddle of purrs, before he decides he's had enough and attacks my fingers. I lift my hand and to my surprise find a kitten hanging from it. "Ow? Nails?"_

_You giggle and rescue me by putting one hand under his bum and using the other to coax the tiny nails out of my skin._

_"Little bloodthirsty maniac..." I grin. "You're going to fit *right* in..."_

 

 

I love that I can joke around with you so freely now... god, what a difference a few weeks can make...

Well, if we’ve learned anything, it’s what a difference even a day can make - the day you came back into my life.

The day we started unburdening ourselves of our dark pasts.

The day we realized you’d been in love with me all along...

And now - in a day this little purring, mewling creature has become a part of our lives, and turned us into a - family?

I rescue you from said creature, holding him in my hand as I grin back at you.

“Yep. Too bad he’s going to be left alone again when we go out for dinner. Maybe we can wear him out before we go, so he’ll just fall asleep... huh, little monster?”

I plop him onto the duvet, and he promptly attacks your foot through the covers.

I sigh. “That’s _a lot_ of energy to burn through...”

“So. Eduardo. Tonight. Feels weird to be going out socializing... like we’re just a regular couple spending the evening with your friend...” I chuckle. “Your friend, the crime boss... What’s an appropriate gift to bring? Tequila? Roses? Ooh - maybe an icon of Santa Muerte?”

 

 

_“Well it’s not like we haven’t done it before. It’s just that now we’re married, so you’ve been promoted from bodyguard to mob wife,” I grin. “Instead of shooting the shit with the other bodyguards, you’ll now be expected to take part in civilized conversation about anything from drug routes to opera._

_Shouldn’t be a problem, surely?”_

 

 

I give you a mighty eye-roll.

"Mob _wife_... like I'm entirely focused on catering and dry-cleaning, instead of being the second-in-command of a criminal empire..." I pause. " _And_ dealing with catering and dry-cleaning," I add wryly. "And I'll remind you that I had a ridiculously posh upbringing where I _hated_ civilized discussions about opera and the rest. But yes, I can hold my own..." I cover my face. "There probably won't be any beer... I'm gonna need a lot of wine..."

 

 

_“Hey. Don’t underestimate mob wives. I’ve met several who are way scarier and more competent than their husbands.”_

_I grin. “Remember Marina? I had such a laugh planning with her whilst both of us pretended that I was negotiating with her thick ball of lard of a husband._

_If you like, I can explain to Eduardo that my sweet husband gets triggered by talk of opera and art, so that we should limit our conversation to talking shop or discussing the Formula One results, or that he should be allowed to reside with the other uncouth muscle like he used to, lest he burst into tears when we mention Puccini...”_

 

 

"On behalf of the uncouth muscle..." I lift two fingers up again. "Don't worry, I'll be fine... even if opera should come up instead of Formula One..."

I pet Tez, and he kicks me with his back feet. "I assume Eduardo knows you're still dead, in the eyes of the world...?"

 

 

_"Yeah, he does. He was remarkably unperturbed by it though - makes me wonder if he had his suspicions... I'm sure it will come up. Sorry - speaking of triggering dinner conversation..._

_Yes little monster, I'm sure we will speak of you too. You can't come though because Eduardo has *huuuuge* dogs."_

_Tez continues his assault on my feet, unperturbed by the prospect of dogs of any size._

_“I'm pretty sure if we *did* bring him, which we won't, Tiger, don't look like that, we'd end up with the dogs shivering in Alejandro's lap and Tez launching himself at them all claws out. Kittens know no fear..." I move my foot under the duvet, causing Tez to do an impressive display of sideways, back arched jumping._

 

 

“So we have all day... Well. All afternoon, now...” I say, glancing at my phone. “Do we need to go out to get a gift, or do you have some expensive booze kicking around that you’re hiding from me?” I nudge you, and you give me an innocent look. “ _Do you_?”

 

 

_“Wouldn’t dream of hiding anything from you, my dear, least of all expensive booze. You’d probably have sniffed it out by now anyway._

_Yes, let’s go into town and get something nice. He’s partial to a good whiskey, and roses are always good. I don’t know about icons - that’s quite personal... but who knows what we will find.”_

_I wave my hand at that last comment, which provokes Tez into attack, so I battle him until he’s had enough and jumps away, looks at us for a moment, and falls asleep._

 

 

“Wanna go now, while the furry tyrant is sleeping?” I stage-whisper. He looks up indignantly through half-closed eyes. When he opens his mouth, no sound comes out, and he promptly falls back asleep.

“We could grab a bite to eat, and pick up Eduardo’s gift... maybe you’ll want to do some shopping while we’re out. And then come back to survey the damage?” I take Tezzy’s back foot in my hand and gently shake it. He doesn’t even stir...

 

 

_“Mmm,” I purr. We have a shower, come out to see Tez has transformed into a perfect furry circle. We get dressed, head to the kitchen, to find out that he has discovered a transdimensional portal and somehow got there before us - how?! For a second I think it may be another kitten, but it’s unmistakably Tez. He’s squealing around your legs as you are cooking breakfast, trying to climb up your trousers to get onto the work surface, being plucked off and put back onto the floor, until you have both your hands full and he manages to get to your hip, looking a bit puzzled as to what to do now, and meowing for bacon._

 

 

"Jesus, Tez! Jim? A little help??" I stare helplessly at the kitten hanging from me as I ease the frying pan back onto the stove and the spatula onto the cutting board. You rush to scoop Tez up and extricate his tiny claws from my trousers - luckily the little needle-like claws aren't long enough to have gone through the fabric into my skin.

"You have to be _careful_ in the kitchen, Tezzy..." you coo, holding his furry body up and pressing it against your face. "There are dangerous things in here like heat, and bacon grease!"

"And Tigerdaddy getting clawed and dropping a frying pan," I mutter, watching you cradle Tez while he squirms and sniffs the air desperately. "God, when his claws get longer.. he's going to be a menace, Jim. And you - you're going to give him bacon, aren't you..." I look at you staring at the sizzling bacon, as Tez paws at the air, mewing piteously.

 

 

_"Wow, you'd think he's *starving*... never had a bite to eat in his *life*..." I grin at little Tez. "You're a brilliant actor, just like your daddy, aren't you?" I nuzzle his little neck, but Tez' entire world is bacon now, and he's not interested in my attentions._

_"It's alright Seb, when he grows up he'll just jump onto the counter without having to climb into your trousers."_

_I imagine Tez as a grown cat - silver and majestic, sleek, elegant, beautiful - and a class-A thief. I'm glad I'm not the one who cooks in this family..._

_I wonder where we will be... we won't stay here forever. Will we be back in London? Will Tez be the terror of the pigeons on the roof terrace of a penthouse in Conduit Street? Or catching rats in Paris? Chasing cockroaches in New York?_

_I can't really see it... despite my reassurances that we can settle wherever, and I meant those, I have trouble imagining us anywhere but London in the future._

_Won't it be strange though... being back home but with such a different balance... will I be able to ignore the Empire when it's right there clamouring for attention?_

_I'm still holding a Tez who is performing amazing feats of catrobatics attempting to escape._

 

 

You have a faraway look in your eye as you're looking at Tez - you're imagining him fully-grown, aren't you... and grieving the passage of time as well as revelling in it?

I feel so swamped with love for you, it hurts. I gently take the wriggling kitten away from you and put him on the floor, then hold a tiny piece of bacon to his lips. He sniffs, and chomps down on it quickly. it disappears into his mouth, and he chews and swallows, before licking his lips, and sniffing the air.

"Just a little more," I say warningly, and hold another small piece to his mouth, which he devours. "That's enough, Tezzy," I say affectionately. He looks indignantly at me, then curls around my ankle, and begins to kick my trouser leg.

"Jesus... he gets what he demands, and he still acts like a little monster," I mutter. Our eyes lock, and I laugh helplessly. "The cat, I mean..." I lean against the counter, and draw you towards me. "Come here, my other little monster..." I growl, and pull you in to a kiss.

 


	11. Death Winked

_Aw, my sweethearts... God, why is it that adding a small furry thing to our living arrangement makes me love *you* more?_

_I get up, into your arms, let myself be held by my beloved for all of two seconds before Tez starts climbing your leg again._

_I pluck him off, wave my finger in front of his face. "*You*. Are such a menace. If you don't stop it, you will be locked out of the kitchen for mealtimes..." He swipes at my finger. I sigh. "Utterly incorrigible, just like Tigerdaddy..."_

_You look at me indignantly. "What did *I* do?"_

_"You're ruining breakfast, for a start. That bacon is done," I point, and you rush to save the bacon and eggs from burning as I take Tez out of the kitchen, serve him biscuits in the living room. "You can stay here so daddy and Tigerdaddy can have breakfast without risking spearing you with our forks. Yes, mew, I know," I explain, then head back to the kitchen. The moment I open the door Tez flies past me and attacks you again. I stare at him, helpless - how can something so tiny be so *fast*?_

_You dive at him, grab him, and manage to shove him into the living room and close the door before he manages to get back in._

_Indignant wails start up immediately. We look at each other._

_"Breakfast on the patio, my love?" you suggest. I nod. "Sorry - I had no idea something so small would be so disruptive..."_

 

 

"Yeah? I learnt that lesson five years ago," I grin, and duck to avoid the oven gloves flying at my face. "Now, now, darling..." I start, and suddenly you're brandishing a heavy frying pan, and I'm manoeuvring to put distance between us. I throw open the refrigerator door, and duck behind it, peeking out. "Jim darling, I don't have a white flag, but if you could throw me a tea towel?" I say innocently, and you stalk towards me, menacingly. "OK! I surrender!" I stand, hands raised towards the ceiling. "Do what you want with me, my lord..." I say in a husky voice, eyeing you as you advance. "But maybe just - put down the frying pan? Please?" I grin.

 

 

_"I don't know... after all these years, I finally seem to have found a weapon that intimidates you... why would I give up such an advantage?"_

_"Your breakfast is getting cold!" you try, and I have to concede you’ve got a point there._

_"Alright... a temporary truce," I say, lowering the frying pan, letting you hang it back up as I open the door to the patio._

_It's getting colder, these days - it's still pleasant out on here, where there is a wall screening us from most of the wind, though. And you can hardly hear the screams from inside, where a poor innocent kitten is cruelly separated from the bacon that is rightfully his._

_I put some on the side of my plate to give him later. You roll your eyes and smile indulgently._

 

 

After breakfast, we return to the kitchen to clear away dishes, and you let in a huffy, seemingly inconsolable Tez - until he realizes there's bacon to be had, and he becomes doe-eyed and purring again. I watch as he winds around your ankles coquettishly and you feed him bits of bacon and coo at his antics. I shake my head as I load the dishwasher.

"Look at that - he's already mastered manipulation, sweetheart. You should be very proud..." I grin, and finish my coffee.

 

 

_"I think that comes inbuilt with kittens, doesn't it?" I reply as I pet little Tez while he scoffs down his bacon. "Not too much sweetie... it's too salty for you and you'll be drinking water all day." Tez is not convinced, sniffs my fingers, then bites them to check if they are perhaps bacon too. "Ow - no, that is daddy!"_

_I hold up my finger, see a tiny puncture wound. "You little vampire..." I shake my head. "Tiger? I've been the victim of a vicious animal.”_

 

 

“Awww, baby... let me see that...”

You wave your finger at me, pouting. Feigning concern, I examine it closely.

“Oh no, Jim... Just what I was afraid of... it’s going to require surgery. Possibly a series of them.” I shake my head sadly.

You look horrified. “ _No_... are you sure?”

“ _Of course_ I’m sure. I do have first aid training...” I say, all haughtiness. “You’re not questioning my medical knowledge... _are you_?”

“Oh no, darling! Never!” you assure me. “But - aren’t there any alternatives to surgery... for me?” you say in a silky voice, as much a coquette as the kitten playing with your trouser cuffs.

“Well... I suppose there could be,” I grumble, then haul out the first aid kit from under the sink. After cleaning it, applying antibacterial ointment and a small bandage, I press a kiss to your finger.

“Ow,” you whisper, gazing at me seductively.

I snigger, and then try to look contrite. “I’m sorry, my love... I shouldn’t have come at you so hard with my amorous intentions... you’re still weak from your wounding... and I’m such a brute.”

“Yes, you _are_ a brute, Sebastian! And I’ll never forgive you!” You play-slap me across the face, and then grab my shoulders. “Oh, darling... I’m so sorry, I’m in such a state from my ordeal! Can you forgive me?”

I rub my cheek, staring at you wryly. “Yeah, Jim... I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” I look down at Tez, who’s lying across your foot, staring up at us. “Sorry to inform you Tezzy, your daddies are _completely mental_...”

 

 

_Tez is looking unimpressed. “I’m sorry Tez. You could have gone to any villa along the beach and maybe found some cute girls with pigtails who would coo at you and put a ribbon around your neck... but no, you had to choose Guarida del Tigre and end up with two insane criminals. The upside is no ribbons and loads of meat. The downside is that sometimes things will get silly, noisy, or X-rated. Or all three at once. You’ll get used to it.”_

_He doesn’t look too sure, but also doesn’t look unhappy with the situation, and falls asleep on my foot, then looks indignant when I move it._

_“I’m terribly sorry, my dear, but we are expected at one of Mexico’s biggest crime bosses’ dinner table tonight, and it would be rude to arrive empty-handed, so we’re going to have to go shopping.”_

_He falls asleep again._

_“I guess that’s permission?” I look at you. I really don’t want to leave him, but we can’t stay here for the next twenty years..._

 

 

I look down at Tezzy, sleeping on the floor, looking exhausted from his schedule of making demands and ruling the roost.

"An opportune time to slip away, anyway - if you don't want to listen to caterwauling, and feel guilty..." I take your hand and pull you out of the kitchen. "Come on... or we'll never leave..." I grin.

When we're safely out of the kitchen, I pause and draw me towards you. I raise your hand to my lips and press a kiss into your palm, then I look into your eyes. "Hey..." I say softly.

 

 

_I stop, look at you - your face is so - soft, is the best way to describe it - you are looking so sweet, so gentle, so loving... your eyes light and happy, your mouth in a small smile -_

_You couldn’t look more different from the man I saw in London only a few short weeks ago - but we’ve lived a lifetime since then..._

_And my heart expands to fill my chest and then expands even further, trying to get into yours, and I pull you closer so that it can, and it feels so - warm, and liquid, and beautiful - feeling your strong heart beating against mine, like we are one being, and we are, in a way - neither of us could exist without the other._

_You understand, because you’re holding me so tight, your head just resting against mine, for a long time._

 

 

"I love you," I murmur into your hair, before I pull back and lay my hand on your cheek.

"And now Tezzy, too - of the three of us, the littlest monster. But possibly the most ferocious," I grin and kiss your bandaged finger. "What were you thinking, naming him after a god?? Anyway, I know I always took a hard line about bringing a cat into our lives... but I'm very happy to be raising this adorable little creature with you. And doing _everything_ with you... whether it's retrofitting Guarida del Tigre to be a cat palace, or seeking vengeance on people who have wronged us... I want _all of it_ \- I don't want to miss a single second of life with you, even if we're certifiable sometimes... now, shall we go buy a gift for a Mexican crime boss?" I wink at you, and hold out my hand.

 

 

_I'm momentarily amazed at unmovable assassin Moran loving a kitten, but then it dawns on me that -_

_*I* love a kitten._

_It appears that I've gone from absolutely unable to care for anyone at all, to just randomly cherishing whoever enters my house. Good thing I've never met the cleaners yet._

_"I've turned from a stone-cold psycho into a doting husband and father in the space of three weeks. Whatever will be next Tiger? I'll take up gardening, cooking, and knitting? Join the church council? Start a charity to care for veterans and stray cats? Buy a house and a telly and a minivan? Wait, we have those. Anyway. Look what you've done to me."_

_I look at your eyes above your infectious grin, stroke your face._

_"I fucking love you so much..."_

 

 

"I fucking love you, too babe... You will _always_ be my beautiful psycho," I say, tenderly kissing your forehead. "And we do _not_ have a minivan, we have bad-ass motorcycles... should we get a side-car and a little helmet for Tez next time we go for a ride... or just tuck him in a saddlebag? He'd probably just fall asleep..."

I pull you with me to the bedroom to get ready for our outing. The bed is awfully inviting, but then we'll never leave. Mournfully, I walk past it towards the cupboard. "Do you want to take the bikes into town, or order a car?"

 

 

_No. We have plenty of time. Shopping is not a lot of work. And I need to be close to you, be so close to you..._

_I pull you to the bed, drop down onto it, pull you on top of me -_

_“I’m sorry Tiger - it’s not even about the sex; I just need - need you, need to feel you close - so close -“_

_I pull off your shirt, grab you close - I need to feel your heart, your heart beating so strongly, I need to feel it or I’ll fall apart -_

_what the hell is this? What is happening to me? Why am I suddenly a clingy toddler?_

_Whatever; I want this I need this I will have this..._

_“Hold me Tiger... hold me as tight as you can...”_

_Maybe not as tight as you can, because it’d kill me, but quite bloody tight - I seem to be having an attack of extreme love..._

 

 

I find myself being pulled onto the bed, and onto you...

You're holding on to me like we're adrift at sea and clinging to a life preserver together - like you're afraid of drowning in the ocean, or losing me in a storm. Don't you know, Jim? No storm can keep me from you...

"Do you still worry about all this disappearing?" I ask gently. "It's only been a couple of weeks - it'll take a while for this to sink into our consciousness... but this is for keeps, Jim. I'm not going anywhere - not even the great beyond - without you! It's strange but it feels like... somehow we've reached an accord with Santa Muerte, and she's not coming for either of us for a good long while. We should pick up some roses and tequila for the pretty girl... I think she's gonna need a lot of gifts, Jim. Because this is a significant boon for two criminal psychopaths in love, who live on the edge of life and death... and I want to make sure she feels appreciated." I stroke your face. "Anything to keep you safe and in my arms, baby..."

 

 

_“You’re probably right. I don’t know. I’m - fuck Seb, I’m so in love it *hurts*... is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Is something wrong with me?_

_Yeah, let’s go see Santa Muerte... let’s do regular worship including bribery sacrifices at the altar of an outcast death saint - hey, I’m mad, I’m allowed to do such things, surely._

_And while we’re at it - I found a tiny whisker this morning and I thought I’d keep it and as we are going to go the full crazy new converts mile, let’s put that on the altar and ask for protection for our latest family member too._

_... no one told me that love makes you even more insane,” I say, accusingly. “You could have warned me, Tiger.”_

 

 

"Yes, that would have been enticing..." I chuckle. "'Hey, Jim! If you're considering realizing you're in love with the head case in front of you - fair warning, it's gonna hurt more than you can _ever_ imagine, and make you more insane. Let's get married!' I shake my head, grinning. "Pair of blind, besotted fools we were... we had _no idea_ what was coming..."

Languorously, I kiss your hand. "It hurts me, too," I confide quietly. "I guess we're just - not accustomed to feeling so deeply. It doesn't come naturally after a lifetime of shutting out your feelings, does it... or numbing them with booze... sex... psychopathy... ill-advised, torrid affairs with your bodyguard..." I can't help but grin at this. "God, how in denial were _we_... I don't think I'll ever get over that..."

I kiss your other hand. "Putting a whisker on the altar sound perfect, baby..." I murmur huskily.

 

 

_I'm still holding on to you. We're going to have to warn Eduardo that we can't come, because we are sick with love and can't let go of each other..._

_"It hurts you too? After all those years of loving, it hurts still? Is it just - something that comes with the territory? I mean - you're still doing the booze, sex, and psychopathy. Though if I find out you're having any torrid affairs, they'll never find all the pieces..."_

_Indignant meowing can be heard from the kitchen. I snigger._

_"He's right. If we are going to be away from him, we should really be doing something useful, not clinging on to each other like shipwrecked lovers..."_

_I talk brave, but make no move whatsoever._

 

 

"My shipwrecked lover..." I say in a low, purring voice, and kiss your neck. "Surely you know by now I'm not the affair-having type... torrid or otherwise. Loyalty to the grave, now, _that_ lights my tree. I assume I don't have to threaten you, either?" I wink and you roll your eyes. We grin as there's yet another long, exasperated meow from the kitchen.

"We gotta go, babe... or he'll _never_ forgive us... for a good five minutes, anyway." I get up regretfully, and extend a hand to you. " _Shops_ , Jim... bags of purchases..." I wheedle as you get up sulkily.

 

 

_"But... *Tigers*..." I whine, but get dressed in my biker gear, trying not to look at you getting dressed in yours, but then you say something and I *do*, of course, and fuck fuck fuck, you look like a wet dream come to life._

_"Exactly where do you think you're going dressed like that, young man?"_

 

 

“What?” I look back from where I’m looking in the mirror and running my hand through my hair. Then I smile slyly. “Problem?”

I walk towards you slowly. You’re eyeing me like a tantalizing piece of meat, which always sets my head on fire... among other things.

“Is my ensemble... inappropriate?” I ask huskily, and pull you against me.

 

 

_"*Extremely* so," I breathe -_

_We're going to have to call Eduardo, explain we can't come, because my Tiger looks too. fucking. hot. and I need to take him *now* -_

_How are we ever going to leave this house ever again!?_

_"Right." I say, more determined than I feel, shove my sunglasses onto my nose._

_"We are going to *leave* this house, get gifts for Santa Muerte and Eduardo and Elena and Juan - any other powers of death in this country that we need to appease?"_

_An ear-splitting MEEEWWWWWWW - "... and of course the mighty Tezcatlipoca. Beholden and slaves are we to him," I grin._

_"*Then*, my dear husband, you are going to strip for me again. You have the rest of the trip to think of a good track. Deal?"_

 

 

I chuckle. "As you wish, darling..."

I love that you enjoy it so much... I've stripped for you twice since we got to Mexico, and now you're demanding it? Mmm... my dark Lord shall have what he desires...

and I'll get to flaunt my naked body for you, and then you'll pound me good and hard.

Sounds like the perfect day - if only there was a way of speeding up time for shopping and dinner. But I suppose we can't just hang around the house, eating and drinking and fucking all the time... right?

Well to be fair, we have a kitten to play with too, and that takes up a huge amount of time, apparently. Definitely according to Tez, who's howling his displeasure...

"Do you want to let the tyrannical little darling out of the kitchen? And then we should get out of here..." I say, letting go of you regretfully. As you head to the kitchen, I grab my wallet, attach it to its chain, and shove it in my pocket. Then I follow you to the kitchen, thinking of possible songs. I've been a biker, and a special forces soldier... and the last performance was fucking epic. How the fuck am I going to follow that up? Well, I'm sure you understand that it was a special occasion, and they can't all start out on the roof and involve smoke bombs... right?

I find you on the floor, cooing to Tezzy that we'll return soon. I crouch down and scratch his cheek. "Daddy's gotta go, Tezzy... if you're a good little hellcat while we're gone, you'll get treats..."

His ears perk up and he squeaks. "Does he know _that word_ already?" I ask, grimacing.

 

 

_"He's an extremely talented kitten," I nod. "Learnt English in no time. Takes after his daddy, don't you, little one?"_

_I triple-check that all windows and doors and other kitten-sized holes are shut, and sneak with you into the hallway, under loud protests from our little genius. We head into the garage, take our bikes, and ride out onto the road._

_It's a nice and sunny day, reasonably warm, but deliciously cool on the bikes. It's liberating to feel the wind blow through my hair, blow away all the soot and cobwebs. I know that's not how it works. I don't care. It's nice._

_We head into town, where we buy roses and tequila for Santa Muerte - of course -, roses for Elena, monogrammed platinum cuff links for Eduardo, and a silver hip flask for Juan, some good whiskey to share - I don't know what to get for kids and there are too many and they'll be kept out of the way anyway, but I think that it's considered good practice to bring gifts for one's host's spawn. Let's see - they must be 6, 9, 13, 15 (x2), 17, and 18 by now..._

_We head to a toy store, where I tell the lady the ages and genders, and she brings me gifts for the youngest five, wrapped and everything. You say you know just the thing for Olivia and Isandro, and get both of them a fancy flick knife. Eduardo is all for his daughter being his pretty little princess, whilst able to kill a man if he comes too near, and she was a deft hand with throwing knives last time we visited._

_Last on our list is the pet shop, where I look lost among the cat toys and treats - I should have brought Tezzy - how can I know what he wants..._

 

 

It takes fifteen minutes and seemingly endless prodding to get you to choose a basketful of toys for Tezzy. Finally as you're trying to decide between a fuzzy purple monkey and a terry-cloth blue bear, I pull both out of your hands, throw them in the basket and head to the check-out.

 

"No need to be testy, darling," I hear your drawl behind me.

 

"I'm not being testy, darling..." I say emphatically. "I just assumed you didn't want to be late for dinner with _your_ friend..."

 

"Oh, silly me! _I_ just assumed you'd want the best for _our_ kitten..."

 

God... how domestic did we get in two weeks??

I look up from the basket, and back at you wryly. Your mouth tightens as if you're trying not to smile. I cross my eyes at you, and your chin wavers slightly. Then we both burst out laughing.

As we wait for the lady in front of us to pay, we continue laughing. She glances at us repeatedly, looking perplexed.

When she leaves, I sidle up to the cashier who stares in surprise at us, two giggling gringos in biker gear with a basket full of cat toys.

"Hola!" I say, grinning. " _Nuestro gatito es un tirano malcriado_..."

I feel you leaning against my back, shaking with laughter.

I snigger loudly, and try to ignore you as I pull out my wallet. " _Perdóname, señora_ -"

By the time our transaction wraps up and we're stumbling out to the parking lot with our numerous shopping bags, I dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"Oh - god -" I pant, trying to catch my breath. "You'd never guess we're bad-ass criminals... we really should try to appear more sinister, darling...”

You clear your throat, give me a haughty Moriarty stare, and we practically fall into my bike laughing uproariously.

 

 

_"I - don't know," I gasp for air, "is there anything more *terrifying* than the two most dangerous men in London shopping for cat toys in Mexico? Tony would be shitting himself - wondering what I could *possibly* be up to now... What horrors I could inflict with a wind-up mouse..."_

_We wipe away our tears and try to stop sniggering. Passers-by look at us in puzzlement, which makes us laugh again. Oh god..._

_"We had quite a big breakfast and will be having a big dinner - I suggest a quick bite for lunch and then head to the Skinny Lady?"_

_You agree, and we walk over to a street vendor who gives us two piping hot, delicious-smelling tacos, which we enjoy leaning on our bikes._

 

 

I eat my taco in two large bites, just barely avoiding getting slopped on by sour cream and guacamole. Gingerly avoiding the mess on the street, I move closer to your taco with an innocent expression. Not looking at me, you say in a soft, threatening voice, "Take one more step and you'll have to stand all through dinner, Tiger..."

 

I feel my cock twitch, and I look slyly at you. "So I'd get beaten and fucked, _as well as_ a delicious stolen taco? Worth it..."

But it's been so good to see you eat regularly, and I don't actually want to take food away from you. I cross my arms, waiting for you to finish eating fastidiously. "Fine, let me starve..." I gripe. "By the time you're finished eating, the sun will have gone down and we'll have missed dinner..."

 

You roll your eyes heavenward. "Some of us prefer to eat with _manners_ , darling..." you say loftily.

 

"Others of us know how to eat with manners, and can't be arsed. You, however, are a _very_ well-mannered, elegant psychopath..." I grin at you as you carefully wipe your lips with a napkin. "But you missed a spot..."

 

You look alarmed at the very thought, until I move in closer. "Let me get that for you..." I whisper, and kiss your lips gently. "Oh! I was wrong... must have been a trick of the light..."

 

You push me away, feigning exasperation, and I chuckle. "Alright. _La Flaca_ is waiting... let's go, babe...” I kiss your hand, and climb onto my bike.

 

 

_I see one or two people staring at us, but they look away quickly. Yeah, you don't want to get on the wrong side of a 6' muscular leather-clad biker. Even if you don't know that he's a talented assassin. And has a basket full of cat toys in his saddlebag..._

_We ride the short distance to the temple and get our gifts out of the bags, make our way through the open door and up the stairs. Adonia appears in the doorway, beams when she sees us. I guess we're becoming quite regular guests - I don't want to know what that means. I'm not religious, nor are you. We're just - we enjoy this place._

_She kisses us both on the cheek, welcomes us, makes delighted sounds at the roses, takes them. "I'll put these in a vase, darlings - they're beautiful, she'll love them..," and heads to the kitchen, leaving us with the Lady._

_You are looking at her again like you're in a bit of a trance - I do think she's affecting you more than you're letting on._

_Which is fine. You are allowed to have normal people's delusions._

_I look up. It's darkish in the temple - the windows are small and the curtains are drawn. Candles burn around the space, though, quite a few on the altar, giving the light a dancing, changing quality. I look at Santa Muerte's face - skull - and I see - something - in the eye sockets - light dancing on incense smoke, or dust particles - but I can't look away. It's like - she knows me..._

_she's looking inside, and she's not judging. Not casting aside, not looking away in disgust, not requiring me to hide the nasty bits, the unseemly bits, the insanity, the violence._

_She just - is. Stripped bare of all pretences to the bare bones._

_The ultimate reality._

 

_I shake my head. I felt miles away there. Almost - hypnotized. What's in that incense?_

_I nudge your hand, you startle, look at me. You too, huh?_

_Adonia walks back in with the roses in a vase, puts them in front of the altar, where several other filled vases sit. You hand her the tequila, she smiles her wide smile, gets a glass with a gilded edge from a shelf and pours some of the tequila in it, puts the glass on the altar and the bottle beside it._

_"I'll leave you two with la Bonita - I think you have some things to discuss, no?" she smiles and retreats into her rooms behind the temple. I am touched by the trust this shows and her sensitivity to our moods - I hadn't realized I wanted to be alone with her and you until she mentioned it._

 

 

As we mount the stairs, it strikes me how bloody weird it is for us to come here, and I have a moment of wanting to pitch the whole idea, and leave the roses at the outdoor shrine instead. Has it really only been a couple of days since we've been here? How do we keep ending up in a _chapel_... even for a saint frowned upon by the Catholic Church?

But when Adonia greets us, all warm hugs and kisses, I have to admit, seeing her does my heart a world of good.

I think if I were in such dire straits that I actually needed to _talk_ to someone, and for some reason it couldn't be you - I might actually be compelled to seek her out. Which comes as _quite_ a shock to even consider - as a rule, I've talked to _no one_ about my emotions ever since David died. He was my confidant, and it hurt too much to share of myself with anyone else.

This changed somewhat in the Regiment, as I depended on my patrol mates to survive, and trusted them with my life. Sometimes as liquor flowed, we would open up little by little and feelings would divulge themselves... but no matter how drunk I was, I always knew how to stop the flow before it got to be _too much_...

But there's something about Adonia, and something about this place... and as I peer into the darkness towards the altar, it strikes me that this has never been a 'chapel', any more than Santa Muerte is a _saint_...

This is a _temple_...

and Santa Muerte is...

She is...

 

You nudge my hand, and I'm taken aback. Adonia smiles slyly, says something about how we have something to discuss with la Bonita... and vanishes from sight.

I stare up at Our Lady of Holy Death as we approach wordlessly.

Her bone-white face a mere mask... seemingly tough but ultimately flimsy and easy to discard.

But what lies _beneath_ the mask is another thing entirely - a living entity, spilling out into the space from staring eye sockets, from the spaces in between bone plates. How is this skeleton even staying fused together, with the force of her presence underneath??

 

_Darkness..._

 

_Death..._

 

_Mother..._

 

I feel a tremor move through me. You nudge me, I nod in a stupor, and step in front of the altar. You don't kneel, of course - you kneel to no one.

I stay standing, as well - but maybe, just maybe, it would be different if I were alone...

Alone and begging the Lady of Darkness to keep you safe and with me, always.

 _Please, Lady_ \- I whisper in my mind, and then my lips move silently. _Please_.

A ripple seems to move through the space. The hairs on my arms stand on end.

I glance at you. You're staring up at her, your expression flitting between scepticism and fascination. Your gaze is razor-sharp, as if to say 'don't try to fool me with your candle-lit theatrics. It takes more to reach Jim Moriarty than setting a stage with billowing fabrics and a skeleton in a beautiful gown...'

 

 _Of course_ it does - which is why you're here, staring up at her with grudging awe. The psychopath who held his hand over the throat of the world - bringing offerings to a so-called saint...

our lady with a scythe in one hand of bone, and a globe in the other...

wearing a blue cloak dotted with stars, as if draped in the night sky...

a weighty crown perched atop her grinning face, which seems to whisper with endless amusement, ' _Yess_ , clever boy - even you will kneel at my feet...'

But as I gaze into her inky blackness, there's another whisper running underneath, like a dark current through the ocean - like a lullaby written in the stars -

 

_Return to my arms, my sweet..._

 

_Querida, te amo..._

 

_Vuelve a mi, mi corazón..._

 

With a jerk, I find myself back in the room. I hear no whispered words, no sweet lullabies... I see no blackness suspended around the skeleton in robes...

 

There's only me and you, standing and staring at a statue.

Fuck - my muscles are trembling. I've broken out into a cold sweat. And I _already know_ what you would say this was - a flight of my imagination, based on the ridiculous human desire for something more... and you're probably right...

But then I see a bright spark in her eye socket flare up like a _wink_... and I back away, cursing. You look at me in surprise, and I cover my face and start laughing. "As I always suspected, Jim... Lady Death is quite the comedienne..." I giggle helplessly into my hands.

 

 

_What's happening to you? You seem in a trance, and then you suddenly step away going 'fuck...' - and then you start laughing._

_"What? What did she do?" I look at the statue suspiciously, like I expect her to start laughing - but there's just her rictus grin._

 

 

“She -“ I cut myself off, shaking my head. It feels ridiculous to even say it aloud...

“I heard singing...” I hear myself blurt. “Then I told myself I was imagining things. And then she _winked_ at me...” I hold up my hand. “I already know what you’re going to say, trust me. But - _look_ at her...” I say in a hushed voice.

We stare at the skeleton grinning at us. Is her head tilted now?? It must just mess with my mind to be in a religious space... either that or she’s really -

I laugh, shaking my head again. “Anyway. She’s a tricky one...” I smile at you helplessly.

I don’t have the words for this. I really don’t.

 

 

_I think we shouldn't come over here so often. The atmosphere is playing tricks on your head. There's probably something in the incense, anyway - she's the patron of drug dealers, after all. There are several joints on the altar._

_Which reminds me. I take out the little mint box that I'd put Tezzy's whisker in._

_I look up at the face, so familiar, the one that I had on ties and cups and cuff links... I just never realized there was an entire Mexican Lady Saint connected with it._

_We understand each other, don't we, Lady? I've always been yours, so has Seb. And - well, we have a new family member. You may know him, he's a Mexican deity type as well. Tezcatlipoca. He's a kitten, so a killer by nature, you'll love him. Anyway. I brought a whisker, so you can kind of recognize him._

_I feel utterly stupid holding up a cat hair to a skeleton statue, but then all religion is stupid, and this is a place of religion, so I may as well do as the Romans do._

_I put the whisker on the altar, next to the glass that Adonia has poured our tequila in._

_If you would be so kind as to keep him safe as well - you'll have a devoted little family of killers._

_I look up at her face again. Unreadable, as always. So much more honest than those beatifically smiling statues of Mary._

 

 

You place the little whisker on the altar with such reverence, such care...

As you stand back and stare up at her, I move closer to you. We lean into each other, and as I feel your head against my shoulder, I sigh deeply.

My husband, Jim...

Our kitten, Tezcatlipoca...

I can deal with how weird this all is, Lady - just - _remember us_... and you'll have all the bodies you want... all the roses and tequila you desire. Please keep us safe.

There's nothing as obvious as a wink this time, but there's a feeling of an exhale, and a sense of retreating.

And we continue to look at her in silence.

We're still standing there in front of Lady Death, arms wrapped tightly around each other, when Adonia returns.

 

 

_You hold me, and we stand there, sort of locked in her gaze, the two of us and the lady. It feels like none of us will ever be able to move - but then the stasis is broken by Adonia._

_I smile at her, she smiles back - a little, knowing smile. Oh don't you look like that Mrs Priestess. We're not part of your congregation. We're just here - well. You never know with kittens, alright? They're very small and fragile._

_You take a step back, turn to her._

_"Thanks once again for your hospitality, Doña Adonia. This is a very special place."_

_She comes over, kisses us both, holds your arm when she thanks you for your sweet words, but for once I'm not irritated - Adonia isn't threatening, just amiable._

_"You're always welcome. I think la Flaquita has taken a liking to you..." she winks._

_"Thank you," I smile, "the feeling is mutual."_

_I look at you. "Shall we head home to see if our little monster has left anything standing?"_

 

 

“Little monster?” Adonia asks, looking intrigued.

 

“Ah... We were adopted yesterday by a tiny creature with whiskers and claws,” I say mysteriously. “What he lacks in size, he makes up for in wilfulness... and tyranny.”

 

“Ahh! _Gatito_?” she guesses with excitement. I nod, and she clasps her hands together.

 

“Wonderful! Well, I have you beat... I have _five_ who allow me to live with them... so clearly I have a weakness for sweet monsters,” she winks. “And the tyrant’s name?”

 

“Tezcatlipoca...” you say, raising your hands as though in worship.

 

Her laugh is throaty, female, and wicked... It makes me think of someone who appreciates tequila, gentlemen of ill repute, and ribald humour. “ _Cariño_... Mexico has got her claws into you... _Mexico auténtica_. And I could not be happier.” She kisses us again, beaming. “Now. I expect you to pay me and the Skinny Girl a visit before too long. I make a sangria that will leave you weeping...” she winks and ushers us to the door, in between us, arms tucked cosily in ours.

“And I will make my prayers for you and Tezcatlipoca. Don’t worry - la Flaquita and I have an understanding...” she smiles mysteriously at us. She touches her fingers to her lips and lifts them up, and then the door swishes shut.

 

We’re left staring at the door for a moment before we glance at each other. I exhale slowly. “I feel the claws of La Flaquita and Doña Adonia, too...” I whisper, feigning horror. You giggle, nudge me, and we make our way down the stairs.

Slowly we walk to where our bikes are parked. It’s a sunny day - not too hot, and with a lovely breeze.

“We’d best get back to the furry tyrant so we can spend some time with him before we have to leave again... I’m sure he will not be pleased.”

 


	12. A Fucking Tall Order

_I groan and smile at the same time - I can't wait to see the little fucker but god knows what he's destroyed this time. I'm pretty sure Guarida del Tigre wasn't designed with cats in mind... or Tigers. Between you, Sra. Álvarez's pretty vases don't stand a chance._

_We head back on our bikes, the wind blowing through my hair, feeling like it's blowing away all the remnant soot from our difficult talks, leaving a pleasant open emptiness ready to be filled with our new life._

 

_As we get home you bring the Domínguez's stuff inside, being very careful with the flowers, while I carry Tezzy's new toys and treats._

_As we open the door to the living room he's fast asleep on the arm of the sofa. I notice he's started using one of its corners as his scratching post, despite the fact that he has three scratching posts between the cat tower and the separate post we bought. Other than that, the room looks surprisingly intact - no ornaments shattered, and inspection of the litter box shows that he's worked out what the purpose of that is as well, and hopefully not shat behind the bookshelf._

_I touch his little head and am rewarded with a 'Prrrr?'._

_"Hey Tezzy, we're back," I explain unnecessarily. "We got you some toys! Look!" I hold up a rod with a feathery ball hanging from it, and he jumps at it._

_I spend the next five minutes happily cat-fishing._

 

 

I see you greeting Tez, and slip upstairs to check on the Empire. I know you’re back in charge, but it was a part of my life to run it for so long, it feels weird not to be monitoring it. Steve is managing his end with his usual professionalism. A hole has been left by what Bain was taking care of. I feel a flash of pain over this - but really, it didn’t have to go the way it did. You try to kill Jim Moriarty to get your lusty paws on me, there are bound to be consequences... he was just lucky it was me that finished him off. If Jim had been the one, it wouldn’t have been nearly as quick...

Anyway - we have things to sort out about the Empire. But it’s been only two weeks, and it’s not urgent. Today we have enough on our plates with dinner and Tezzy.

When I log out of my e-mail and return downstairs, you’re watching Tez run all over the sofa and your lap, with one of his toys in his mouth.

“Oh, poor purple monkey!” I say sadly. “He’s not going to last long if you treat him like that, Tezzy...”

Tez falls into a heap, and begins to kick the plush purple monkey with his back paws.

“That’s rather vicious,” I remark. “Good thing we bought so many toys... I think the monkey is a goner…”

 

 

_“It’s sturdy - it’s a cat toy,” I remark, before the thing disintegrates and Tezzy triumphantly runs off with the top half._

_“Huh. Cheap crap.”_

_I see you walk back into the living room, wearing a t-shirt and your leather trousers._

_Oh. I assumed you had gone upstairs to change..._

_“I did order a striptease, Tiger... you haven’t forgotten, have you?”_

_I look you up and down to make it clear that I expected a bit more effort than you taking off trousers and a shirt._

 

 

I blank out for a moment. Oh. Fuck.

“Of _course_ not... “ I say smoothly. “I just didn’t realize how late it was. Just look at the time!” I give you a cockeyed grin, and saunter back to the bedroom.

“Five minutes, Boss,” I call back.

In the bedroom, I start to panic as I scroll through my playlist, It needs to be something I can dress for in the blink of an eye. No... No... Shit...

 _Oh_. Interesting...

I keep scrolling and find another song.

Got it. I hurry to the cupboard, and pull out various pieces until I settle on my outfit.

I regard myself in the mirror in my assassin ensemble. Fairly nondescript so as not to attract undue attention... but it spells _Danger_ , and you’ll know it. If I’m wearing these clothes, someone’s about to die.

Black army pants and boots.

Black hoodie.

Leather coat.

Sunglasses.

And then equipment... cable ties. Knives. Guns.

My reflection smiles at me murderously.

Yep. Ready.

I don’t even bother calling you... because I’m coming to you.

The music begins.

 

_Your blood's gone bad_

_I knew it would_

_The devil keeps_

_He made you bad for good_

 

I pull the hoodie over my head, then slip out the door like Death incarnate, and find you walking into the living room with a bottle of water, looking a little surprised and a little ‘what the fuck’.

 

_So death is coming_

_To purge this town_

_I know your name_

_And I'm going to cut you down_

 

I grab you and throw you into the chair. The water bottle rolls across the floor. Then I pull out the cable ties and secure you. You have a look on your face that’s partway between intrigue and exasperation. I grin at you fiercely, shrug out of my coat, and throw it to the floor.

I pull out a semi-automatic pistol from my waistband. Safety on. I head to the windows, draw the curtains, peek outside. Then I saunter back to you and straddle you. I look you up and down, lick my lips, then pull out a knife. I lick the edge, staring at you seductively.

 

 

_Oh you had forgotten, had you, Tiger? Well, perhaps a quick punishment before we head to Eduardo..._

_I go into the kitchen, look at the coffee maker, decide on a water instead, when I hear music that sounds like the start of an adventure game and someone singing about blood and the devil, which is par for the course for you, but for once it's not a screaming guy accompanied by noisy guitars._

_You walk in looking - oh._

_Oh that's - your killer outfit._

_Pavlovian response. I know those clothes. You would go out in those clothes and then come back late at night and the world would be one nuisance lighter and you'd want to fuck; and you'd look so lethal and hot and sometimes smell of blood and you'd often get what you want..._

_You stalk over to me in two steps, grab me, throw me down, tie my wrists together._

_Well. You certainly never used to do *that*._

_Your leather coat goes, your gun comes out, you close the curtains so we're in a semi-twilight, and then - a knife._

_Oh. I've pulled a knife on you many times, but you doing it on me - while I'm tied down -_

_A thrill of excitement runs down my spine, with a thought- he *wouldn't* - but you look like the personification of death, your head under the hood like the guy from Assassin's Creed, your tongue sneaking out to lick the knife - fuck - is that how I look when I do that? Because it's *fucking* hot - and intimidating - even though I am pretty sure I will not be cut with that knife –_

 

_*pretty* sure –_

 

 

_You can run_

_you can hide_

_you can pray_

_But I'm going to cut you down_

 

I stare at you with lust and ferocity, before trailing the knife down your shirt. A few quick slashes of fabric later, and I've cut the shirt off you completely. I flash you a wicked grin. Oh, I _know_ you're going to punish me for this, baby... and it will be worth it.

 

_I don't bring forgiveness_

_I don't bring peace_

_I've come to slay you_

_Come to kill the beast_

 

The flat side of the knife rests against your pectoral muscle next to your nipple, and then gently scrapes down, leaving a light laceration. I capture the beads of blood in my mouth, then look up at you with a gleam in my eye. You're staring at me very intently. Yes, I'm really pushing it now... but as long as it's not a permanent mark, I imagine I'll live to see another sunrise...

 

More beads of blood rise to replace the ones I stole - and I swipe them with my finger and lick them with pleasure.

 

_I'll search the shadows_

_you wear like a crown_

_You know it's coming_

_And I'm gonna hunt you down_

 

My hand moves from your hair down your bare chest, and settles on your cock.

Which is hard, mind you... thank fuck.

The thought of disciplining your unruly tiger must be exciting you...I guess I may as well make this count.

Knowing how much you appreciate symmetry, I graze the other pectoral. Then I smile at you fiercely before licking the blood from your chest.

 

_You can run_

_you can hide_

_you can pray_

_But I'm gonna cut you down_

 

I cup your cock possessively, revelling in your stifled moan. I lean in and push your jaw back - slowly I lick your throat and nip the skin sharply.

 

_You can all hide if you want to_

_You can all hide if you need_

_But I'm gonna cut you down_

 

My hand presses against your cock as I kiss you, letting you taste the blood on my lips. When I pull away, the song is done. I've only removed my jacket. I'd better give you what you asked for, I realize. But there will be hell to pay regardless, won't there, honey... I stare at you with a sly smile as the next song begins.

 

 

_You're cutting off my shirt!?_

_You've never - I would have cut off your skin if you'd ever tried that before. I've done it on you, of course - and I have to admit, it does feel kind of sexy. And then that grin - hmm, irreverent Tiger..._

_Then the knife touches my skin. That is - a bit disconcerting. How often have I done this with you? Are you taking your revenge?_

_You're scraping rather than cutting... it hurts, but pleasantly. I don't think I would have enjoyed cutting. I'm not you, Tiger... but you seem to realize that._

_You're keen to drink my blood though... your eyes are sparkling as you're looking at me, like a bad boy who's enjoying showing off how bad he is to a blushing, shocked, but fascinated maiden..._

_Another scrape, but there's cock-touching as well, a weird mix of pain and pleasure, which makes me moan - and then you lick and bite and fucking hell Tiger - I can taste my blood on your lips which is weird - normally I'd taste yours..._

_You pull back, smile at me, that cheeky smile, and the next track starts playing -_

_"If there's only one vestment discarded per track we might be here a while..." I state drily._

 

 

The singing of a gospel choir washes over us. This version of House of the Rising Sun never ceases to give me chills... and if my striptease is going to be about a killer, then - the song is appropriately dark.

 

I raise an eyebrow at you. "Someone's _awfully_ demanding for a prisoner..." I croon. "And _familiar_..." I add, caressing your cheek. "I take it you like what you see, baby?"

I rise slowly from your lap. "No bribery, no pleading... just 'take off your clothes'?" I chuckle, and lean towards you.

"Looks like it's my lucky day..." I whisper.

 

As the music and singing builds in crescendo, I cross the room to grab a chair and drag it purposefully across the room. Then I place it in front of yours with a thump.

I sit back in the chair for a moment to look at you, then lean forward with my elbows on my knees, my arms hanging down loosely. I grin at you again. Then with a casual expression and an unhurried air, I begin to unlace my boots. These are kicked off and to the side, and my socks are removed.

 

I stretch out my legs and slowly pull off my hoodie, revealing a form-fitting t-shirt underneath. The hoodie is thrown over your head, and I smile at you, arrogant as all hell. Then I remove my t-shirt. When I throw it, it softly thumps against your bare chest.

 

The music pauses, and then the sound of pounding drums and howling guitars fills the room.

 

I rise from the chair, hips swaying.

 

_There is a house in New Orleans_

_They call the Rising Sun_

_And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy_

 

I turn to the side and as I arch my back, I give you a smouldering look.

 

_And God I know I'm one_

 

 

_Prisoner, am I?_

_Alright then, Tiger. I’ll be your helpless prisoner, at your mercy..._

_I lick my lips._

_You sit down in front of me in your interrogation pose. So this is what people see before they suffer... I feel a small frisson of a shiver travel along my spine. I know my suffering will be very minimal and completely delicious, but there’s something excitingly frightening about seeing you like this when I’m tied down. It drives home once again that I’m only in charge because you allow me to be... you’re a lethal, fast predator; one swipe of your claws and I’d be dead._

_Your eyes are hooded by your eyebrows, deep in their sockets, so fucking sexy..._

_You look at me, your face expressionless, and your hoodie lands on my head - well, honestly, Tiger..._

_But then you rise and start moving those hips, and... oh. I doubt anyone being interrogated ever sees *this*. Though I’d be happy to tell you every secret I can think of right now... especially the thoughts of what I’d like you to do to me..._

 

 

Oh fuck I'm enjoying this... swaying hypnotically and suggestively, watching you _staring_ at me with laser precision and intent.

 

At the reference to the singer's parents, once again, I'm thinking of the money spent by my mother on dancing lessons for me... and how I'm using those lessons now. And how my father used to rail about how I'd learned all I needed to dance at a bloody wedding, and I was going to turn into a poof, and is that what I wanted to do to my family? If only the noble House of Moran could see me now... performing for my husband - Jim Moriarty the terrifying mastermind, beyond notorious, and currently tied to a chair. And looking very much like he wants to escape from it...

Oh not yet, honey... not with two pieces of clothing to go...

My hands trail down my chest, and the front of my black army trousers. My cock is getting hard, of course... when the guitars and drums start building again, I unbutton my trousers, and unzip partway down before I strut over to you, and grind my hips in front of you, with my trousers hanging low on my hips.

 

Then I move behind you, and drape my arms around you, pressing my chest against your back. I move my hands slowly over your skin and cock, and breathe in the scent of your hair. I lick the length of the back of your neck. Then I move in front of you again.

 

_Oh mother, tell your children_

_Not to do what I have done_

_Spend your lives in sin and misery_

_In the house of the Rising Sun_

 

I move my hips and pelvis more and more suggestively as I unzip my trousers all the way, and lower the waistband. Then I kiss my lips at you, and push the trousers down all the way... looking like I don't regret a single one of my many sins...

 

_Well there is a house in New Orleans_

_They call the Rising Sun_

_And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy_

 

_And God I know I'm one_

 

I kick them off and to the side, and finally I'm standing in front of you in boxer briefs, with my hands on my hips.

 

"How else can I oblige you, my captive?" I growl, and rub my cock through the fabric. "Was this to Sir’s liking?”

 

 

_"Very much so..." I say, my throat dry. You look magnificent, my dear husband. I can't believe those briefs are not bursting into flames._

_"As you rightfully say, I'm your captive... I can't move... can only wait to see what else you are going to do to me, now you have me at your mercy..."_

_I look up at you._

 

 

Music from the next song is already playing.

Am I going to do this? Yes, I’m going to do this...

I step in front of you, legs on either side of yours, looking down at you.

 

_Come touch me like I'm an ordinary man_

_Have a look in my eyes_

_Underneath my skin there is a violence_

_It's got a gun in its hand_

 

I lift my gun.

 

“Yes, you’re at my mercy... and no one _ever_ survives seeing me this close. But there’s something about you, honey... So I’m going to give you one chance...” I say playfully. Then I put the gun in my waistband at my lower back... and run my hands down your arms. Then I uncuff you. Smiling, I run the side of the gun barrel over your shoulder, then press it into your chest.

 

“Take it...” I say lightly. “Tell me what you want me to do... And if you can take me... you’ll live to see another day.”

 

Your hand slowly closes around the gun.

 

_Bullets are the beauty of the blistering sky_

_Bullets are the beauty and I don't know why_

 

I step back from you, palms up. “Now I’m at _your_ mercy - for the moment. What would you like me to do?” I say in a husky voice.

 

 

_Your gun._

_Well, of course you have your gun. You always have your gun._

_Still. It is - charged, in this context._

_You remind me of your lethality... and it is *so* sexy... my killer... *my* killer. I point, you shoot. You are a magnificent murder machine, my Tiger..._

_You cut the cable ties off me and - hand me your gun?_

_Oh. This took an unexpected turn indeed... nearly naked cold-blooded killer all of a sudden looking down the barrel of his own gun._

 

Confine me, let me be the lesser of a beautiful man,

without the blood on his hands,

come and make me a martyr come and break my feeling,

with your violence with the gun on my head

 

ready to take out anyone, anywhere

 

_God, yes - you are ready to take out anyone anywhere. Always are._

_And now you want - to be the lesser of a beautiful man?_

_*Fine*, Sebastian..._

_Normally I don't need a gun for this, but why not add an extra facet to my power?_

_I stand up, smiling lazily, keeping the gun pointed at you._

_"Get rid of those pants, for a start," I say. You pull them down, step out of them, satisfyingly erect._

_"On your knees," I gesture with the gun, like to so many people about to die before. You kneel down, looking at me with big eyes. I step closer._

 

 

As I get down on my knees, I recall the flare of surprise in your eyes when you took the gun away from me. But within the space of an instant - you’re ordering me to strip, pointing the gun at me - as natural for you as breathing, it seems...

My beautiful murderous love...

I shiver, staring up at the gleaming blackness of your eyes.

No - remember, Seb. The game is that you’re a killer, too... And nobody knows who will end up on top, with a gun in their hand.

I shake myself out of my mesmerized stupor, and smile at you slowly.

“Mmm... _like_ that, do you? Having a big, scary killer on his knees... what shall I do next, honey?” I purr.

My eyes flick down to the gun, and back to you, licking my lips.

 

 

_"Yes, I like that..." I smile lazily, stepping forward, stroking your cheek with the gun._

_"And to get a big, scary killer on his knees, I don't even need to have a gun... I can get him on his knees with just words. Just a gesture. Just my *eyes*."_

_I look into yours, see your pupils get large - oh yes baby, you know that look..._

_"But it's fun to use a toy sometimes..." I let the gun trail past your neck. "Making it concrete... that knowledge that you are alive because I want you to be... that your life is *mine*... and I could take it from you if I wanted to, in a second."_

_I push the gun against your lips. You obediently open your mouth, and I push it inside._

_"Not what I usually put there... and a waste of a good, talented tongue and lips... show me what you can do, Tiger."_

 

 

I shiver when I feel the gun stroking my face...

and feel myself growing painfully hard.

Fuuuuck... yet more proof that Sebastian Moriarty is _completely mental_...

and delirious when utterly at your mercy.

When you remind me in a silky voice that the gun is just window dressing... and stroke it over my skin...

I let out a long slow exhale. Because somehow I _know_ what's coming next...

I feel my muscles tremble with anticipation.

And then the gun pushes past my lips into my mouth, and ohhh...

fuck...

 _yes_...

 

I never told you I did this once before... With one of my more impulsive patrol-mates who clearly sensed my need for danger and domination... But it was a lifetime ago, and it _barely rates_ as rehearsal for the drama that's happening now...

Now, that I'm madly, hopelessly in love with Danger incarnate...

and newly wed to true Domination in a deceptively adorable package...

my dark Lord and master holding a gun in my mouth, ordering me to _show you what I can do_...

Are we still playing the game? All I know is in this moment I wouldn't take this gun away from you for _anything_ in the world...

My lips slide devastatingly slowly along the barrel... ah, that taste of residual gunpowder, the sensation of cold metal death sliding into me...

I close my eyes briefly, and give a muffled moan...

Jesus... _Jim_...

My eyes open and lock on yours. Then my tongue flicks against the trigger guard and then presses more firmly, before I pull back -

Delicately I trace the muzzle with my tongue, and then push my lips back over the barrel.

 

 

_Raging erection, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy, a moan around the barrel._

_I should have known you had a gun fetish. You are always fondling them, looking at magazines full of them, are delighted when I buy you a new one, never leave the house without one. Remarkably dull-witted of me not to have tried this before..._

_You're licking the thing with a devotion that might almost make me jealous... were it not that you're doing this to show me what you can do, which I know *very* well, but never witnessed from this angle before. It's quite entrancing..._

_I pull it out of your mouth and you open your eyes, look up at me._

_"Now, my beautiful prisoner..." I say, moving the gun through your hair. "Now I have you at my mercy... what should I do with you? What can you offer me to convince me to let you live?"_

 

 

You have a fascinated look in your eye as you watch me for another moment, then you pull the gun away.

Hearing your words makes me alert. Momentary euphoria fading, I remember - ah, yes. The game.

 

I give you a cocky grin. "I'm your prisoner now, am I..." I drawl. "For the moment, so it would appear... what can I offer you for my life?" I look at you assessingly and pretend to think long and hard.

" _Well_. I've already danced for you, stripped naked, fellated a gun... And you want _more_?" I blink innocently, but my killer smile never wavers. "Now that you've seen what my lips and tongue are capable of... do you want to get better acquainted?" I look meaningfully at your groin.

 

 

_"I'll forgive you for the lack of originality because of the sheer brilliance of the suggestion," I grin. "Why don't you liberate the relevant parts..."_

_You lift your hands, free my erection with practised movements, look at it hungrily, then open your mouth and close your eyes, licking along my shaft._

_I put the gun against your head. "You better make this worth my while..."_

 

 

I hum my assent as I lick your shaft until it's damp, and then take you fully in my mouth.

As I work my magic, you groan with pleasure.

I sense your muscles relax.

I see your eyelids flutter.

I watch your eyes widen with surprise when I seize the gun and point it at you.

With a smile, I stand.

“I enjoyed being your prisoner. _Very much._ But now that you're mine again... why I shouldn't kill you?" I look you up and down, licking my lips.

 

 

_*What* -_

_Hold on. One moment I am relaxing into one of Sebastian Moran's superb blowjobs, and the next -_

_Blow job is gone, and I'm staring down the barrel of a gun, with you grinning at me as you stand up._

_Oh *that's* how we're going to play it, is it?_

_"Why shouldn't you kill me? Well, that's an excellent question..." I smile. What do I do? Do I play along and let you have your wicked way with me? Or do I show you how *Jim Moriarty* doesn't need a gun to be the most powerful man in the room?_

_Let's play your game for a bit... it is quite hot how you disarmed me before I realized what happened. You haven't lost anything of your touch, Tiger..._

_"Surely a body like mine is more fun to play with when it's alive and breathing?" I move to undo my trousers._

 

 

“You’ve got me there...” I smile smugly, and gesture with the gun to continue.

I watch as you slowly slide your trousers down, your black eyes locked on mine. Shoes, socks, and trousers are slid off and pushed aside, and you look at me with a knowing smirk.

Shit - you’ve already got me overheating, and you’re still in your boxer briefs.

And then you’re not. You make a gesture like _tada_ , eyes glinting at me.

I shake my head as I gaze at your naked body, porcelain white and perfect.

“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful... but you know that, don’t you?” I purr.

 

 

_"It's been mentioned once or twice..." I smile, do a quick turn, see your big eyes as I face you again._

_"Now... wouldn't it be a shame to mar this perfect beauty with a bullet hole? Or even... a knife point?" I frown, looking down at my chest._

_"But it's all up to you to decide... you are the big strong soldier with the gun... I'm just a small defenceless man, completely at your mercy..." I smile my best innocent-sweet-bystander smile._

 

 

I give you an indulgent smile. "A small defenceless man, sure... now why do I get the impression that you could be one of the most dangerous creatures I've ever met? Maybe even... the _most_ dangerous... _Of course_ Nature would give you a way of lulling your victims into a false sense of security... " I cock my head, gazing at you. "You know who else appears small and defenceless? Sweet little domestic cats... do you have any idea how much killing they're capable of?" I start to walk around you slowly. "How much mayhem... destruction... sadistic torture... And oh, can those pretty little claws and teeth wreak bloody havoc..." I say in a soft, purring voice. "Are you going to use those claws on me when I least expect it, honey?"

I stop in front of you with a fierce smile. Slowly I reach out my hand and stroke your face.

 

 

_Speaking of domestic cats -_

_I scan the living room. Tez has decided to leave his mad daddies to it and is asleep. In the cardboard box, of course. God forbid he sleep in one of his expensive beds._

_Still, he sleeps, which is good. The atmosphere between us is charged and I don’t need a kitten charging our vulnerable parts._

_“You should know to expect the claws by now, darling...” I smile. “How many times have they, and other implements and body parts, pierced and penetrated you?”_

_I lift up my hand, take yours, move it in front of my mouth, kiss your palm, then lick it, head up your finger, put my lips around it, suck softly, move off._

_“You have the gun... but I have something way way more powerful. I have *my will*... and guns are powerless against it. I can get the bravest soldier to his knees just by gently suggesting he kneel for me...”_

_I stare into your eyes._

 

 

God.. that smile...

_pierced..._

_penetrated_

You’re doing it aren’t you...

The one thing I’m defenceless against...

 _You_.

You’re holding my hand, licking my finger...

staring at me...

Oh... _fuck_...

I feel my throat start to close up, and I clear it. My killer instinct is weakening with Every. Bloody. Moment.

“And _are_ you...” I growl softly. “Suggesting something...?”

I don’t need you to answer.

With a strangled sound, I get to my knees. Staring up at you, I hold out the gun.

 

 

_I smile down at you with more than a hint of triumph, take the gun, put it on the table._

_Then I stroke your face._

_“Good Tiger...”_

_You look half pleased, half pissed off._

_“It’s alright, Sebastian... we’ve both proven we haven’t lost it. You disarmed me before I could blink an eye... and I can get you to surrender without raising my voice. The world is still in order...” I look into your eyes, blue, dark, deep…_

_“Now,” I say in a sterner voice, tightening my fingers around your chin._

_“You cut my flesh...”_

_You lick your lips, looking up at me._

_“No one has ever cut me and lived... so what do I do when my own bodyguard damages my pristine skin?”_

 

 

Oh... right... my eyes fix on your scraped flesh for a long moment, then I look up at you innocently.

"Sorry, Boss... I went Method..." I flash a wicked smile, then quickly manage to appear contrite.

"Won't happen again, Sir..." I murmur, and stare at you with equal measures of hunger and apprehension.

 

 

_"No, it won't... now how do we make sure of that?" I stroke my chin. "Maybe I should break your fingers? Chop some off? It's what I would do with anyone else..."_

_I hold out my hand, you put yours in it. "Of course I am at a conundrum here, because you know well how fond I am of your fingers..." I stroke them, stroke your ring._

_"And we are due at a formal dinner tonight, so any punishment will have to be not *too* visible."_

_I lean down, stroke your pectorals._

_"I could of course cut you as well, but where would be the fun in that? Unoriginal... you'd be disappointed, wouldn't you, Tiger..."_

 

 

A note of worry plays in my mind, like a moaning cello.

Jesus... you wouldn't do anything so... permanent?

You idiot, Seb... don't _ever_ get too complacent...

He's exactly as vicious as a feral kitten would be... in the form of a human psychopath.

I gaze you at you steadily, and not a little awestruck.

"You could never disappoint me..." I say in reverence. "I know you'll think of the perfect thing, Sir..."

My voice drops a register, and comes out as a rough caress. "I wanted to make it exciting for you... but of course, I'll pay whatever price you see fit..."

my beautiful dark darling... I'll take your suffering gladly.

 

 

_My sweet, sweet Tiger... I saw that small flash of worry. You know I wouldn't... yet there is that small whiff of 'what if'. I have it too... what if I cut off a finger. The delicious pain and panic... But then, the hurt and betrayal in your face. A damaged soldier. No. Anyone else's, but not yours._

_How to punish you though... You heal pretty quickly, fortunately, but I couldn't do another lashing without breaking skin._

_"Go to the kitchen and get a wooden spoon, then join me in the bedroom. And don't forget to close the living room door," I say, nodding at the fuzzy dot in the box._

 

 

I stare at you for a moment before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

Well... at least you didn’t ask for something… sharper. I wince at the thought, momentarily anxious.

I collect the wooden spoon, peek into the living room to see the slumbering kitty before closing the door, and head to the bedroom.

Do I throw myself at your mercy?

Of course not... _Terrible_ idea.

Take whatever’s coming like a badass special forces soldier.

Inhaling slowly, I open the door.

 

 

_The gods are with us - I heard you close the living room door and there's no indignant screaming yet._

_You enter the bedroom looking slightly apprehensive. Aw... my dear sweet Tiger._

_I can't help it, I'm overcome with a wave of warmth and love, like before we left - is this going to be a thing now? I'll be going about my business of being a badass crime lord and all of a sudden I have this overwhelming urge to cuddle and kiss you?_

_Apparently... and who cares._

_I'm sitting on the bed, beckon you over. You hand me the spoon, which I put on the bedside table for now, then grab you, push you onto the bed, and straddle you, kissing you passionately._

 

 

The look in your eye - it’s not danger...

I remember _very well_ what that looks like...

and still I lived to tell about it.

How much safer am I now that you love me?

There are no guarantees in a life with you...

But - the one thing I can trust is that you would hate - _hate_ \- to be without me.

And for the moment, you appear... adoring.

Aw... my sweet Jim...

I move towards you, and a smile crosses my lips.

The spoon temporarily forgotten, I find myself grabbed at, thrown to the bed, and kissed with passion and ferocity.

I know soon there will be consequences rising up like a dark-eyed serpent...

But with my hands around your hips, and your tongue in my mouth, I care not a whit.

Moaning with pleasure, my fingers dig into your bare skin.

No nails, I remind myself, and press my cock hard against yours.

 

 

_"My gorgeous lethal husband... you look *incredibly sexy* in your killing outfit, you know that? I'm going to send you to kill people, only to change my mind at the last minute and fuck you rotten instead... and I love you so *fucking* much it hurts... you know that, right?" I ask._

_You smile, your eyes already half-lidded with desire. "Yes, my love... I know. And right back at you..."_

_I let myself sink on top of you, touching you wherever I can, heart to heart, mouth in neck, arms around shoulders. My beautiful, wondrous husband Sebastian... I can't wait to show you off, I think with a smile._

_But first. Punishment. The work of a sadist is never done..._

_I move up, slide off you. "Kneel over the bed, my love..."_

 

 

I’m drunk with sensation and desire, as I feel your _lips_ on me, your _hands_ on me...

God... _Jim_...

Ah, yes... _of course_ , punishment first...

I give you a wry grin and ease myself into place.

A wave of excitement moves through me. Every time it feels like journeying to a place where anything could happen... a realm where you rule with absolute authority. I shiver with anticipation. I already know I’m going to be thinking of this during dinner - during polite conversation, I’ll look at you, touch your thigh, and imagine being in _this place_...

Mmm... what do you have in store for me, dark lord?

 

 

_My beautiful man... I gaze into your eyes, dark with lust and love, as you slide onto the floor; at your magnificent body as you obediently kneel down and stretch over the bed._

_How did I ever get... all this. Little ugly Jimmy Moriarty, head case, who all the kids avoided. I know I have my narcissistic moments when I feel I’m the most handsome person on the planet, but all too often I am the opposite - feeling small and scrawny and ugly - I’d never show, of course not. Except now I think I could. I could tell you this and you’d - probably try to convince me of the opposite. And that’s - fuck, Tiger, you don’t know how incredible that is, to have the most beautiful man I’ve ever met look at me like I’m sex and beauty personified, like I’m God walking among mortals, in absolute devotion and adoration._

_I stroke your back, the M standing out in red. Mine. This gorgeous body - Mine. Your magnificent generous loving heart - Mine._

_I look down at your face, your eyes closed, looking so blissful as you are waiting for my pain. Not just beautiful and talented and intelligent and strong and loving; but also the only person I’ve ever met that actually *wants* my particular brand of sadism... ‘submissive’ rent boys went all safewordish just as I got going; men from adverts turned out to be not ‘up for anything’ at all, and collaboration from men who were in my power was reluctant at best._

_I thought I liked cries of despair and panic, and I did, still do, but cries of pain and lust combined... seeing a body tremble in fear and agony, but eager to feel more... is sexier than I ever expected._

_This is going to start off tame, for our standards, but I’m sure you will be more than desperate by the end, my love..._

_I pick up the spoon, slap it onto your right buttock._

 

 

I shiver as your hand moves down my back. I sense you’re looking at me... assessing my body, your property...

My lips curl into a smile, as I feel anticipation move through me like a tremulous wave.

Just when I start to wonder how long it’s going to take you to _do_ something-

_Smack_

I inhale sharply.

Oh, _fuck_...

“Am I going to be able to sit through dinner, Sir?” I groan, looking back at you.

 

 

_"Sit? Oh, but of course, my love..."_

_I smack your other buttock._

_"Sit comfortably? Probably not..." I smile, slap again._

_"I can ask Eduardo for a cushion for your chair..."_

_*slap*_

_*slap*_

_*slap*_

_The spoon is very pleasant to smack with, I find. It bounces back off your bottom, makes a pleasant, quite loud sound that -_

_Ah._

_Yes._

_Despondent yowling, not from the punished feline, but from his smaller counterpart in the living room, indignant that he is being locked out from all the fun his daddies are having._

_"One second, my dear..." I smile, balance the spoon on your back, and connect my phone to the Bluetooth speaker. Depeche Mode starts up - Master and Servant. I grin as I walk back to the bed._

 

There's a new game we like to play you see

A game with added reality

You treat me like a dog

Get me down on my knees

We call it master and servant

 

_I resume my rhythmical smacking of your arse. The lines of the whippings and canings are still visible, though fading. The spoon makes lovely red splotches, changing to white bits that almost look like callouses as I continue._

 

 

It’s amazing how you can bring about so many _different_ sensations of pleasure and pain... and how even the ones that are not as hardcore, are still _so intense_.

You’re a virtuoso of delivering pain...

And I’m the instrument you play on... coaxing from me the music you love - moans, gasps, cries, tears, screams, roars...

 

_It's a lot like life_

_This play between the sheets_

_With you on top and me underneath_

_Forget all about equality_

 

_Let's play master and servant_

_Let's play master and servant_

 

The spoon smacks hard against my arse over and over.

“Oh god,” I moan. My cock is _so hard_...

Every time... you take me to the brink and send me over, _every time_...

 

 

Domination's the name of the game

In bed or in life

They're both just the same

 

_The centres of your buttocks are becoming purple now. It's probably about time to stop, if I don't want to break the skin._

_You're groaning with each smack, that unique Tiger blend of pain and ecstasy. Your cock is rigid against the bed._

_I finish off with six hard ones._

 

 

“ _God_ ”, I groan, the violent smacks reverberating through my flesh.

A spoon is a totally different sensation than a whip or a cane or any of the countless implements you’ve used on my flesh... god, the wood delivers such a blunt smack, so different than the thin sharp ends you usually favour.

I breathe deeply as I lie against the bed, my arse vibrating _pain_.

“Fuck... s’good, Sir...” I mutter.

 

 

_I trace my fingers across your arse. Hot to the touch as well as the eye..._

_I take the lube, prepare you, grab your two glowing cheeks hard, and push inside - fuck so good..._

 

 

Your hands are on my burning, stinging skin...

preparing to possess me.

And then you _do_ , grabbing my arse, shoving inside me, making me gasp.

Oh fuck - I love how you handle me.

God... _so... fucking... good..._

 

 

_You are groaning as I enter you, but it's a groan of pleasure, not pain. I push inside you, slowly._

_"That was hardly punishment, now was it Tiger..." I say, pulling out a bit, thrusting back in._

_"But don't worry... it's not over yet. Now, if you do *exactly* as I say, it won't be too bad..."_

_Pulling back, pushing in - I'm touching your blazing hot cheeks now. I bend over you, purring, as I explain my plan to you while I fuck you._

_"I'm going to fuck you hard and come inside you... and you're not going to come, my love, because I am telling you not to, and you wouldn't go against my command... then we'll have a shower and get dressed._

_And then, when you look gorgeous, you are going to kneel down and bend over the bed again... and I'm going to insert a peeled ginger root. You like those, don't you, Tiger?"_

_You groan. I'll take that as a yes._

_"So if you're *good* and do as I say, I'll put it in your still tender arse before we go. The burning lasts about half an hour, so the worst should be over by the time we arrive, but you'll feel it inside you all during dinner... reminding you of who *owns* you..._

_Of course if you are *bad*, and act stroppy, or come before I give permission, I will wait and only insert it when we arrive at Eduardo's... causing the burn to grow to a crescendo during the aperitifs... wouldn't that be fun?"_

_Another groan, which I take to mean that your idea of fun is slightly different from mine. I don't think you'll disobey... but I really should do that some time just to see you squirm... maybe not when I'm introducing you as my husband to an acquaintance for the very first time though. That's quite a momentous occasion._

_"Then when we get home... if you've been a good guest and husband during our visit... you'll get to throw me down and fuck me hard and come *spectacularly*..." I shiver with anticipation, picturing the scene._

_"All in all sounds like a good night to me, don't you think so, Tiger?"_

 

 

Oh - mother - fucking - Christ - your voice _undoes_ me, especially when you fuck me.

But god, it's - so hard - to not get carried away - when you're - slamming -

into -

me -

oh fuck, _of course_ you're not going to let me come...

and this is so - fucking - hot -

 _what_?

oh god - ginger again - I know you enjoy your sexual torture, but - before we leave? during dinner??

and I have to act like _a good guest_ with ginger burning my freshly beaten arse, in order to fuck you and come??

This is a fucking tall order, considering I'm an anti-social misanthrope as it is... but then -

I _cut you with a knife_.

 _Obviously_ that requires suffering for my sins...

"Yes, I think that _does_ sound like a good night for you," I gasp, as you pound into me. "And for me it sounds like torture on so many different levels. Genius, Sir..." I smile grimly. "I would expect nothing less..."

Luckily, Eduardo loves drinking and always insists his guests keep up... and as I'll be a _guest_ , not security - _and_ your new husband, I'm sure he'll bring out some delightfully good booze. _That_ should keep me from getting stroppy...

I hope...

You push into me hard, grinding my cock against the mattress. When I moan loudly, I hear you chuckle.

"You're really - going to enjoy - the hell out of this - I pant. "Aren't you... Sir..."

 

 

_"I plan to, Tiger..." I pant. Fuck you always feel so incredibly good - how often have we fucked on our honeymoon? Well, it's what a honeymoon is for, I guess..._

_"You could have just had a striptease and a great fuck... but you wanted to make things *edgy*... damaging my pristine skin..." I dig my nails into your bottom, making you moan._

_"And you knew you were going to be punished - and you relished that. You *love* being punished, even if you don't always enjoy the means of punishment. You *love* knowing that you are mine and I will never hesitate to hurt your body to show that... don't you..."_

 

 

"God... fuck... _yess_..." I moan lasciviously, feeling like I'm going to burst.

Jesus, Jim... are you close?? I don't think I can take much more of this, knowing you're excited to torment me like a plaything - it's making my cock so much harder, even though I know it's gonna be a _fucking_ uncomfortable dinner.

If I can just get through it without snarling at someone (including you), it'll be _so satisfying_ to throw you over a piece of furniture, my tyrannical darling - and just _rail_ that luscious arse...

Oh god, Seb... don't think of that _now_...

I groan. "Oh god... Sir... I'm so close..."

 

 

_Your reply is delicious... you love being punished by me and I love that you love it, and I love you, and then you’re groaning and clenching your arse and saying that you’re close and that pushes me over the edge - god - Sebastian - my red-hot killing machine..._

_I dig my nails into your hips as I shudder my orgasm into you, *my* beautiful killer, mineminemine..._

 

 

As your shivering orgasm begins, I'm holding on, grasping the duvet and trying desperately not to stray too close to the edge with you... because then I'll fall over for sure. And my poor, stinging arse is already in for some powerful punishment tonight - I sure as _fuck_ do not want to make it any worse. Especially while being forced to be civil and social. Especially when I have a shot at taking it out on _your_ arse afterwards. God, do I need that motivation to get through tonight...

You're not making it easy to stay the course though, shuddering and moaning as you pump into me, and come so hard...

Ohhh -

Just -

Hold -

On -

I breathe through my desire, as you collapse against me.

 

“Fuck..." I pant. "That felt amazing..." I lift my head and look back at you with a wry smile. "Wish I could have joined you, Sir..."

 

 

_My orgasm thrills through me in convulsing waves, slowly, slowly subsiding, until I am leaning over you, catching my breath._

_"You could have joined me, had you not thought to flirt with death... you're getting away easy, Sebastian," I purr. "Imagine what *you* would have done to anyone who cut my skin..." I shudder._

_I bend over and kiss your back, then pull out with a shiver._

_"I love you, Seb... you're amazing," I smile and slap your arse, get up. "Time to shower and get ready for our dinner, Tiger."_

_I head to the shower, whistling._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Circus - Britney Spears  
> Trouble for Me - Britney Spears  
> Criminal - Britney Spears  
> Toxic - Britney Spears  
> I Feel Love - Donna Summer  
> Take on Me - A-Ha  
> Girls Just Want to Have Fun - Cindy Lauper  
> Faith - George Michael  
> Just Can't Get Enough - Depeche Mode  
> Call Me - Blondie  
> Temptation - New Order  
> The Wild Boys - Duran Duran  
> Tainted Love - Soft Cell  
> Kids in America - Kim Wilde  
> Purple Rain - Prince  
> Relax - Frankie Goes To Hollywood  
> Another One Bites the Dust - Queen  
> Killer Queen - Queen  
> Don't Stop Me Now - Queen  
> Rebel Yell - Billy Idol  
> Hungry Like the Wolf - Duran Duran  
> Trade Ya - Kim Cesarion  
> Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones  
> Beat The Devil's Tattoo - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club  
> Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down  
> Gay Bar - Electric Six  
> Let's Dance - David Bowie  
> Atomic - Blondie  
> Daddy Cool - Boney M  
> The Chauffeur - Duran Duran  
> Under Pressure - Queen & David Bowie  
> Never Say Never - Romeo Void  
> Sweet Surrender - Sarah McLachlan  
> Stupid - Sarah McLachlan  
> The Sound of Silence - Disturbed  
> Striptease - Hawksley Workman  
> Show Me How to Live - Audioslave  
> Like a Stone - Audioslave  
> Doesn't Remind Me - Audioslave  
> No One Knows - Queens of the Stone Age  
> Pressure - Muse  
> Nightlife - IAMX  
> The Aviators - Helen Jane Long  
> Heartbreak Hotel - Hanni El Khatib  
> Telescope - Starset  
> Home Is Far from Here - Mick Harvey  
> John, I'm Only Dancing - David Bowie  
> Almost Sorry - Scissor Sisters  
> Aftermath - Muse  
> Bring It On - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds  
> I'm Only Joking - Kongos  
> Jealous Sea - Meg Myers  
> Song to the Siren - This Mortal Coil  
> Strangelove - Depeche Mode  
> Lullaby - The Cure  
> Psycho Killer - Talking Heads  
> Eye of the Tiger - Survivor  
> Disco Bloodbath Boogie Fever - Alice Cooper  
> Hunt You Down - The Hit House feat. Ruby Friedman  
> House of the Rising Sun - Heavy Young Heathens  
> Bullets - Archive  
> Master and Servant - Depeche Mode  
> Personal Jesus - Marilyn Manson  
> Nightmare (Chiller twist snowdrop mix) - Brainbug


End file.
